


Comes Love Prompts

by Multiple_Universes



Series: Comes Love [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Burlesque Club, Angst, Betty Boop Yuuri Katsuki, Burlesque AU, Confident Katsuki Yuuri, Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Jessica Rabbit Yuuri Katsuki, Katsuki Yuuri in Lingerie, M/M, Marilyn Monroe Yuuri Katsuki, Moulin Rouge dancer Yuuri Katsuki, Sexy Katsuki Yuuri, Smut, Strip and Fluff, Stripper Katsuki Yuuri, dita von teese Yuuri Katsuki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-02-08 14:21:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 40,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12866352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multiple_Universes/pseuds/Multiple_Universes
Summary: Living with the love of your life is wonderful, but when the love of your life also happens to be a burlesque dancer, then things get REALLY interesting...A Burlesque AU with Yuuri as a performer and Victor as his admirer.A collection of drabbles set after the ficComes Love.





	1. Yuuri’s Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't resist and had to come back to this AU with more prompts. If you have ideas for me, feel free to leave them in the comments!

Victor left the envelope in the kitchen, along with a birthday card and a note to Yuuri apologizing that he couldn’t be there when he woke up.

There was an annoying meeting with the sponsors he had to go to; Yakov had been adamant.

It wasn’t fair. He just hoped that a $200 giftcard to Yuuri’s favourite lingerie store would make up for it.

It was either that or waking him up early and Victor learned quickly enough that that was a bad idea. Yuuri was an owl and was used to sleeping in. The sexiest man on the planet became the grouchiest man when stirred from sleep.

But it was so hard to leave him that morning!

_I’ll make up for it. I promise!_

The meeting with sponsors dragged on to lunch with sponsors, not giving Victor even a chance to make a quick phone call.

He caught Yakov’s eye, too irritated to come up with an excuse himself, hoping like mad that the man would save him.

 _He_ knew it was Yuuri’s birthday.

“Vitya, did you forget your dentist’s appointment?” Yakov asked.

He caught himself just in time and, instead of asking “what dentist’s appointment” like an idiot, apologized and left.

Free! Free at last!

He pulled out his phone and called. “Yuuri! I’m so sorry, I –”

Yuuri laughed and talked as if it was just another day, as if it wasn’t the most important holiday of the year, as if… _he thought Victor had forgotten about his birthday._

His blood ran cold, but Yuuri said goodbye and hung up before he could say anything.

Victor knew what he had to do then. He headed straight for a flower store, bought the most expensive bouquet of red roses they had and then stopped at another store to buy Yuuri’s favourite dark red lipstick.

Armed with these presents he rushed home.

“Yuuri?” he called, opening the door and wondering why Yuuri wasn’t there to greet him.

Did he already leave? Oh no! He got angry and left! Panic rose in his stomach.

But Yuuri wasn’t gone. He was there and very much so.

Victor felt the extra presents slip out of his hands the moment his eyes fell on Yuuri.

The birthday boy lay on the couch, dressed in nothing but white lace lingerie with beads that didn’t cover him at all and Victor’s Olympic jersey, which had been thrown on over his shoulders like a mere afterthought.

He turned his head and his lips spread in a smile that made Victor swallow nervously.

And then he slipped off the couch and walked slowly towards Victor with a slight sway of the hips. “ _I’d love to kill you with a kiss,_ ” he sang in a low whisper that sent shivers down Victor’s spine and made breathing almost impossible.

“ _I’d like to strike you down with bliss._ ” He put one hand on Victor’s arm and circled him, stepping around the bouquet and then picking it up with both hands.

“ _I’d like to tie you up in knots until your heart stops_.” He picked up the box with the lipstick and slipped it into Victor’s breast pocket as he sang into his ear. His fingers lingered in the pocket afterwards.

Victor was ready to fall over.

Yuuri stepped away and put the bouquet down on the table, turning his back to Victor. The Olympic jersey slid off Yuuri’s shoulders as if it was a big fur coat and not just a jersey. Down, down it went, revealing a beautiful back with just one strap across it and then further down and Victor realized that he didn’t care where his jersey was. Yuuri’s hands traced out the shape of his buttocks as he bent his knees and moved down and then back up again. He was still singing, but Victor didn’t understand a word.

Yuuri turned and stepped over Victor’s jersey and only then did Victor notice the high-heeled shoes he was wearing that were all straps and heels and nothing else.

Yuuri was stepping closer and Victor didn’t know what to do.

A finger slid up his tie and then Yuuri’s face was impossibly close. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“H-happy birthday,” Victor stammered out and reached forward.

Yuuri put a hand over Victor’s mouth. “One second.” His other hand worked fast, undoing the clasp of the top and then slipping his underwear off. He acted as if it was no big deal, which it might not have been to him, but still caught Victor off guard every time.

“Now I’m in my birthday suit you can kiss me,” he said and caught Victor’s mouth with his lips.

All he was aware of then was Yuuri. How wonderfully warm and close he was. And how he pulled Victor towards the bedroom by his tie.

“What did you think of your present?” Yuuri whispered.

There was so much he wanted to say, but how could he put into words everything he felt in that moment?

And then he knew exactly what to say. “I love you,” he replied and caught Yuuri in another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt was inspired by [this amazing art](http://phyxalia.tumblr.com/post/167980141672/my-piece-for-the-telephone-game-i-participated-in) done for Yuuri's birthday.  
> Yuuri sings [I'd Love to Kill You by Katie Melua](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tebyVZxLKDA).


	2. A Lesson in Seduction - Part 1

Victor was sitting on the couch, playing with Makkachin when Yuuri joined him. It was Saturday afternoon, one of their rare days off and they’d slept in together, unable to let each other go and unable to gather enough strength to get up until it was noon.

Their late breakfast together had been a lot of fun. Victor cooked something elaborate while Yuuri alternated between watching, getting Victor more ingredients from the fridge and embracing him. They laughed, and joked, and tried to make plans for the rest of the day, settling in the end on staying indoors for a little longer.

Yuuri walked into the room, wearing nothing but a pair of stiletto heels and sat down by Victor’s side as casually as if he’d been dressed in regular clothes.

Victor blushed deeply, unable to tear his eyes away from Yuuri. Makkachin, seeing that his owners were too busy to pay attention to him and that all his attempts to get their attention back didn’t work, curled up on the floor at Victor’s feet and fell asleep.

“I was thinking about your skate,” Yuuri said with a smile, “and I can’t say anything about the elements, but the performance…” he shook his head sadly. “You don’t know how to be seductive, do you?” he asked and then, not waiting for Victor’s answer, shifted closer. “It’s your lucky day, because I’m willing to teach you.”

Victor looked away and stammered out some sort of response. He had no idea what he was saying. There was Yuuri and he was all… there and…

His brain ground to a halt. He fidgeted nervously. What was it Yuuri had said? Something about teaching…?

Oh god! But Yuuri was right next to him and…

A foot stuck out, right in front of his face making him jump. Gently the toes pressed against the side of his face, making it turn until he was looking right at Yuuri.

“So what do you say?” he asked, all bare shoulders and seductive smiles, shifting towards him and resting one hand on his thigh. Victor’s eyes went to Yuuri’s thighs and then travelled upwards to the foot near his face.

He took it without thinking. “I… um…”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow.

“Teach me,” Victor whispered, his eyes taking in every detail of Yuuri’s body, the way the light fell on it and the confidence in every muscle.

“Maybe I should put some clothes on first?” Yuuri’s fingers slid up Victor’s chest.

“I-if you want to…” Victor whispered.

Yuuri laughed, slipped away and stood up. “I think I will. Anyone can be seductive when naked.”

Victor stared after his retreating back and sighed. “Only you can be seductive dressed in anything.”

Yuuri paused in the doorway to their bedroom and smiled over his shoulder. “It’s an art.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there will be a continuation of this.


	3. A Lesson in Seduction - Part 2

When Yuuri returned he was in a sweater and a pair of pants, making Victor wonder how he hadn’t frozen when he’d been completely naked. He walked up to Victor only stopping when he was right in front of him.

“I think we’ll start with you going over your routine,” Yuuri said. “You don’t need to bother with the jumps, of course.”

Victor took both of Yuuri’s hands into his. “How do I do that? There’s barely any room here.”

“Then we move the furniture,” Yuuri said, pulling Victor up to his feet.

So they did, pushing as much as they could of it towards the walls. The sofa was especially hard to move and then it stuck out, just inviting someone to walk into it. Makkachin watched everything from the other side of the room, too frightened by all of the noise and moving furniture to approach them.

Yuuri watched Victor go over his routine without a word. They put Victor’s music on and Yuuri just left him to it.

He felt really awkward now, doing this in front of Yuuri, all too aware of how silly it must look. He was no good at being seductive and he knew it. And, yet, here he was.

He got to the end, unable to believe that Yuuri didn’t interrupt him even once and waited for Yuuri’s verdict, his heart beating fast.

Yuuri crossed the room towards him and even his walk made Victor’s knees tremble. He gave a little sad shake of the head before opening his mouth and telling Victor what he thought. “Before you convince anyone that you’re seductive, you have to believe it yourself,” he said, “at least, that’s what they always said to me when I took Burlesque classes.”

Victor lowered his eyes. Yuuri stuck a hand under his chin and raised his head.

“And that starts now. So repeat after me: “I’m the sexiest man alive and everyone wants me”.” Yuuri didn’t need that tone of voice to sound convincing, but he’d made it sound even more convincing somehow, even when Victor knew it was true.

“But, Yuuri, you are –”

“Alright, then,” Yuuri interrupted impatiently, “imagine that you’re me. Can you do that?”

“I’ll try,” he promised. He smiled as a thought occurred to him. “I just realized that you’ve become my coach, Yuuri!”

Yuuri chuckled. “How does your coach usually teach you?”

“He yells a lot and lectures me.”

“I don’t think I want to do either.” He mulled over this for several minutes before saying, “I think I’ll show you how I would dance your routine and we’ll go from there. How about that?”

He watched Yuuri put the music on from the beginning and repeat what he’d done, but in such a way that it looked like a completely different dance. He moved with a smile, enjoying every minute. His fingers slid over his body, his eyes half-closed and then he gave a satisfied sigh as he opened his eyes wider and raised his eyebrows.

Victor followed him across the room, marvelling at how each step, each movement was in just the right place. The dance was over too soon for his liking and he had to suppress the urge to ask Yuuri to go through it again.

“You make it look so easy,” he said. Yuuri prepared to say something against this, but he cut in with, “I know you trained to be able to do this, but… I haven’t. Not really.”

“Let’s go over the whole thing together,” Yuuri suggested with a smile.

Victor started out again and tried not to wince at how awkward he was. He closed his eyes and slid his hands over himself.

Yuuri slipped up beside him, placing his own hands over Victor’s and whispered, “Slower, take your time, imagine those are my hands. Here,” he switched their hands around, so that Victor’s hands were over his, “move my hands, if it helps.”

“Y-Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed. “I…I can’t!”

“Whatever helps, right?” Yuuri whispered into his ear.

Victor held Yuuri’s hands, lacing his own fingers through them and slid them down. He tried not to think about how odd it was.

“True seduction feels like making love, and, in a way, you are,” Yuuri went on in a tone that sent shivers down Victor’s spine. “You’re out there on the ice, making love to the audience with your routine.”

Victor couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his lips before he turned around and faced Yuuri.

“And you have an advantage now you didn’t have before,” Yuuri told him.

“What advantage?” Victor asked, too flustered to think and following in Yuuri’s steps across the room, mirroring each movement.

“You know what making love feels like,” Yuuri said.

That afternoon did indeed feel like making love. Except that they were both fully dressed and several inches apart most of the time. They went over the routine several times. The music was set on a loop, but they didn’t really pay it attention.

“Shoulders,” Yuuri would whisper and Victor would understand what he meant from one word.

The rest of the lesson passed in a whisper. At some point, Victor reached subconsciously for his zipper, but Yuuri caught his hand.

“Not yet,” he told him, leaning in close, as if about to kiss him. “Keep it on.”

It was starting to get really warm. Victor’s entire attention was on Yuuri, while at the same time he was trying to _be_ Yuuri. It was just getting really confusing.

It was dark outside and they hadn’t bothered to turn any lights on, seeing each other by the streetlights from outside. Still, it made it difficult to make out the objects in the room, which meant that any minute now they were bound to walk into the couch.

Yuuri caught Victor against the wall and kissed him, his hands sliding up over Victor’s chest.

“ _Comes love, nothing can be done,_ ” the singer lamented for the millionth time that day.

Yuuri’s hands settled on Victor’s shoulders as he got more enthusiastic with his kiss. He pushed his hips against Victor’s and Victor was sure he would melt any minute.

_I’m a hopeless student, I know, but please don’t be upset with me. There are many things I can do, but not this. This is your realm. This is your world._

His heart beat faster as Yuuri’s chest pressed harder against his.

As always, Yuuri was demanding and, as always, he gave Yuuri all he could.

Down, back down, Yuuri’s fingers went over his body until they found a break in the clothes to slip into.

Victor's whole body reacted.

Yuuri pulled his lips away. “I don’t think I make a good coach,” he said with a note of a smile in his voice. It was too dark to read his expression now.

“You’re an excellent coach,” Victor whispered back, still breathless after the kiss.

Yuuri stepped back, freeing himself from Victor’s embrace. “Maybe it’s time we invited yours.”

“My what?”

“Your coach,” Yuuri answered, turning the lights back on and starting to move the furniture back into place. Victor stood against the wall, holding his head with one hand, trying to remember where and who he was. “I thought he wanted to see one of my performances?” Yuuri asked, moving the table over.

Victor rushed over to help him. “He did. Does, I mean.”

He was prepared to swear that there was a mischievous smile on Yuuri’s face when he said, “then bring him over to the club next Saturday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is slowly turning into an unofficial sequel. Oops. Haha


	4. A Boop-Boop-a-Doop

Yakov knew what they were doing. Of course he did.

“Yuuri invited you to come and see him perform,” Victor had said.

So here he was, watching mostly naked women dance on a stage as suggestively as they could.

They probably all laughed themselves sick when they came up with this idea. “Let’s shock the old man,” they must’ve told each other. “Obviously, he’s never seen something like this before.”

His pupils always forgot that he’d been young once (and, fair enough, he often forgot this himself) and that he’d been a coach for several decades with all kinds of students who wore all sorts of outfits.

Alright, no one had ever gone out in just their underwear, but a bodysuit that made it look like the wearer was naked came really darn close.

And, besides, he’d lived through the…

He lost his train of thought as soon as Yuuri stepped out onto the stage. He was all – and there was really no other word for it – dolled up to look like Betty Boop. He had everything from the short red dress that had no hopes of reaching his knees and started in a heart shape over his chest. It had no straps, or sleeves, or anything at all to cover Yuuri’s shoulders. It was red, but not a bright happy red, or a faded vintage red, but a deep red that simply screamed seduction. Yuuri wore hells and lipstick in the same colour. And a garter on one thigh.

Yuuri stepped up to the microphone and the audience went completely silent. There was something about that boy. He radiated sexual appeal just by standing there.

Yakov would always remember what followed with a mix of emotions. Some part of his brain refused to accept what he’d seen and treated it like some sort of deluded fantasy.

“ _Ain’tcha kinda glad?_ ” Yuuri sang in a voice that didn’t bother with the ears and went straight to the heart, making it beat faster. “ _And ain’tcha kinda gay?_ ” He slid his hands over his chest, eyes half-closed. “ _When you hear me say I loves ya?_ ” He opened his eyes and winked at the audience, raising and lowering his shoulder playfully. “ _Oh, tell me, baby, ain’tcha?_ ”

Yakov remembered to breathe and threw a sideways look at Victor.

His pupil sat with a blissful smile on his face and his hands joined together on the table, as if he was praying.

Yakov was a bit old-fashioned. He was ready to admit it himself. Because when Yuuri slid his hands over the microphone, reclined his head and gave an ecstatic sigh Yakov couldn’t help thinking that if he’d been Yuuri’s boyfriend he wouldn’t have liked him to go out in front of an audience and do this sort of thing.

And then he became aware of the fact that his thoughts had strayed in forbidden territory.

He understood why Victor lost his mind over this boy so completely. He understood why Victor was prepared to drop everything, his career, his home, his title, all just for Yuuri. He understood when he first saw Yuuri at the club, but now he understood it even more.

And, as before, he feared for his pupil. He had no idea what sort of person Yuuri was. Was he playing at being in love, or was his heart really in it?

“ _And don’t you kinda miss, a little bit of bliss,_ ” Yuuri went on, his hands forming a heart, “ _when a hug or kiss I gives ya!_ ” He blew a kiss at Victor.

Yakov watched his pupil sit up straighter as his face reddened.

“ _Oh, tell me, baby, don’tcha?_ ” Yuuri raised his hands and slid them over his hair with his eyes closed as a smile tugged at his lips.

“ _Pretty soon, there’ll be a honeymoon,_ ” he told the world, “ _and to the preacher we will go, and in a year, maybe, honey dear,_ ” his hands briefly formed a heart before sliding down over his hips, but they didn’t stop there, “ _We’ll have a boop-boop-a-doop, boop-boop-a-doop!_ ” now his hands were on his thighs and he kicked one leg playfully into the air.

For a moment Yakov thought the shoe would fly off his foot and into the audience, but it stayed there.

He swung the leg behind him and pulled off his shoe. He dropped it onto the stage and then pulled off the second one.

“ _Oh! Ain’tcha kinda glad?_ ” Yuuri’s hand slid over one thigh to the inside of the other one as he sang on. “ _And ain’tcha kinda gay?_ ” He hooked one finger around the garter and pulled it down slowly. It didn’t matter what he was singing now. He could’ve been reciting passages from War and Peace or reading out someone’s thesis on the impact of increasing the price of bread on the economy, he had everyone’s attention anyway.

“ _When you hear me say I loves ya._ ” He bent down as he sang and pulled the garter down with him. Then he sprang up to his feet with a big smile and tossed the garter.

Everyone watched it fly through the air and into Victor’s lap.

Victor blushed, picked up the bouquet of roses on the table in front of him and tossed it in return.

Yuuri caught them and held them to his chest with one hand and blew a kiss with the other. He turned his back to the audience and bent over to put the roses on the stage. The dress, already very short, rose just a little bit more. Yakov looked away before he could see what it would reveal.

Yuuri straightened up and turned around.

“ _Oh, tell me, baby, ain’tcha?_ ” he sang on, sliding his hands around to his back and Yakov suddenly realized that he was about to see his pupil’s boyfriend get naked. Yuuri turned slowly, rocking gently from side to side as he smiled at the audience over his shoulder.

“ _Boop-boop-a-doop!_ ” He spread out his arms, his dress in one hand and showed off a backside that was completely bare. There were straps, but they didn’t cover anything.

Yuuri dropped his dress and turned with one hand on his hip. “ _Boop-boop-a-doop!_ ” he repeated and slid his hands up and over his chest with a smile.

He was in a pair of black lace underwear that left little to the imagination. Yakov raised his eyes to Yuuri’s face and promised to keep them there.

Yuuri stepped up really close to the microphone, swinging his hips against it and sang the rest in a half-whisper.

Yakov regretted coming. His face was all red and his collar suddenly felt really tight. He looked at Victor, but his pupil still had that happy look on his face, as if it had frozen there.

Yuuri sang with that smile that seemed to say, “look how much fun I am. Can you imagine what a good time we could have?”

Yakov turned away and just watched Victor.

When the song ended at last and Yuuri waved, the audience cheered and demanded more.

Yuuri laughed, stepped up to the very front of the stage and licked his lips suggestively. He stared at the audience in complete silence for several seconds and Yakov was prepared to swear that in those seconds no one dared to breathe. Then the performer turned and walked away like a god.

They cheered, and whistled, and screamed for more.

Not long after that a girl came out with a tray. She descended from the stage and walked up to their table, holding the tray out to Victor.

He barely looked at her, not caring that she was dressed almost as suggestively as Yuuri had been, and reached out for the tray.

Everyone craned their necks to see what she’d brought out for him.

Victor blushed before taking it as discreetly as he could.

A whisper rippled through the crowd. “What is it? What is it?”

Yakov saw what it was, but said nothing.

The girl had brought Yuuri’s underwear out on a tray.

 

The performer joined them several numbers later. Victor waited patiently for him with Yuuri’s undergarments stuffed in the inside pocket of his jacket, not looking at the stage even once.

Yuuri arrived in a long dark blue velvet robe that opened up to show a pale chest and had a slit at his thigh, exposing one leg completely. He took the empty seat on Victor’s right and shifted it closer. He wrapped his arms around one of Victor’s and looked up at him as if he was some kind of miracle.

Yakov braced himself for flirting and dirty comments, but neither of them said anything for a while.

“How was your practice today?” Yuuri asked at last.

“Good.” Victor smiled. “And yours?”

“I had an idea for a new routine during my rehearsals today. And then my agent called.” It was news to Yakov that Yuuri had an agent working for him. “A singer wants me to be in their music video.”

“That’s great, Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed. “I look forward to seeing it!”

Yuuri put his head on Victor’s arm. “I love you,” he said quietly.

“I love you, too,” Victor whispered back.

They really had forgotten about him, then.

Yakov wondered if there was any way for him to get up and leave discretely.

Just as he prepared to stand up Yuuri raised his head and smiled at him. “So… What did you think about my performance?”

There were so many words going through his head at that question and most of them he wouldn’t dare use. He opted for the safest thing to say.

“I liked it.”

The happy looks on both their faces made him realize just how much his opinion had meant to the both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I admit this chapter was inspired by [this art](http://witharthurkirkland.tumblr.com/post/168075653103/roerukun-betty-boop-yuri-on-ice-au-yuuri). And thank you so much to the people who tagged me on this art (yes, I got tagged more than once, which was awesome)!!
> 
> I'm actually really enjoying getting tagged on Tumblr on all the Yuuri in lingerie art, so if you see any more - feel free to keep doing that. And I will probably come up with a ficlet for it. That's our informal agreement.
> 
> I confess I don't actually like the way the Betty Boop song sounds and I kept hoping someone did a good cover for it (her voice isn't the greatest, sorry Betty Boop fans!), but alas no, so I'm not going to link to it here. That way you can imagine it sung in a wonderful voice (and not the original one). If you're really curious, you can always search for it on YouTube, but I don't recommend it.
> 
> Edit: Thanks to LovelyUnicorn, I now have [a better version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BCAZQND9bTs) that would suit Yuuri more (although I admit that I imagined him singing it slower than this, but that's okay because this version is lovely too).


	5. A Music Video

_“Love me, tell me you love only me,” a young woman insisted, her hand pressed to her heart and her eyes open wide._

_She drove up to a gas station and got out of the car. It wasn’t clear where she’d gone or how long she’d been absent for, but when she returned there was a young man reclining against the hood of her car. One bare foot was raised playfully in the air as the other rested on the ground. He had long, impossibly long legs that seemed to go on forever before finally ending in a pair of shorts that would’ve been called underwear, except that no one wore denim underwear, at least not with fake pockets and a frayed look. His elbows rested on the car as his fingers undid his white shirt. He was handsome. He was also completely wet._

 

“What are you watching?” someone cut in.

Mila didn’t even look up from her phone, recognizing that angry tone of voice all too well. “The new music video with Yuuri,” she answered. She was in the change room after a full day of practice. She hadn’t meant to sit there and watch music videos, but her friend had sent her a link and she couldn’t help her curiosity. “Have you seen it?”

“Yuuri?” he repeated.

Mila laughed. The speaker’s name was also Yuri, which meant that there were all kinds of jokes that could be made here, but she left that for another time. “Yeah, you know: Victor’s boyfriend.”

“No, I don’t, actually,” Yuri said. “Apparently, I wasn’t important enough to be introduced!”

“Well,” Mila said defensively, “we couldn’t really take you with us.” She finally tore her eyes away from the video only to see him prepare for an angry outburst. “It was a strippers’ club.”

“So?”

“And you’re too young to go. We’ll take you when you grow up, okay?” she promised.

Yuri elbowed her angrily, making her laugh.

The music video was still going. The pop song was really awful and Mila hoped with all her heart that Yuuri had been paid well for this.

The next scene showed the singer walking into the bedroom where Yuuri lay on the bed on his stomach. The camera started with his sleeping face, and then trailed down over his back and down, down onto his legs, ending with two bare feet. He was completely naked.

“ _That’s_ Victor’s boyfriend?” Yuri exclaimed. “Is he going out with a porn star, or something?”

“Burlesque dancer,” Mila corrected. “He really shouldn’t have agreed to this. It’s such a waste of his talents!”

“You should’ve heard him. He was furious!” Victor cut in.

They looked up and saw him enter the change room. He sat down and removed his skates with a smile. “He was hoping he’d get to do something interesting, but…” he trailed off, put his skates away and started to put on his shoes. “I keep telling him that he should do his own music video,” he went on.

Mila nodded. “He’s got a great voice.”

“He does?” Yuri asked, looking completely lost. “Why does a stripper need to know how to sing?”

“Not _stripper_ ,” Mila corrected again, “burlesque dancer.”

Victor finished tying his shoelaces and rose to his feet. “Here,” he pulled out his phone. “You’re not supposed to take videos at the club, but someone snuck a video with their phone anyway.”

Yuri gave him a suspicious look.

“It’s one of his best numbers,” Victor went on, missing Yuri’s disbelief completely.

“Are you sure you should be showing Yuri this?” Mila asked in a tone of voice that wasn’t even remotely serious.

Yuri elbowed her angrily. “Hey!”

Victor played the video on his phone and everyone leaned forward to watch.

He remembered that day as if it was the day before. It was the day before.

 

_Victor spent the afternoon looking for the right bouquet for Yuuri. It was a special day and this time Yuuri deserved something – well, special._

_After two hours he finally found something he was happy with, paid for it and headed to the club, heart elated. He was about to see Yuuri again!_

_As always, he went in through the back door and down the corridor to leave the flowers in Yuuri’s room._

_This time it wasn’t empty. Yuuri lay sprawled out on the sofa, wrapped in a silk dressing gown and asleep. One bare leg stuck out from the folds of the dressing gown and lay on the sofa’s armrest. For some reason, this detail made Victor smile._

_He set the flowers down by the mirror and then leaned over Yuuri to plant a kiss on his forehead._

_Yuuri turned over in his sleep with a smile._

_Victor hesitated. Did Yuuri set an alarm? What if he didn’t and ended up sleeping through his whole performance? The poor boy looked so exhausted!_

_He sat down at the foot of the sofa and pressed Yuuri’s hand to his face._

_He thought of Yuuri coming into his life, shining bright like a beacon._ I wish I knew how to thank you for all you’ve done for me.

_“Mm… What time is it?” Yuuri mumbled sleepily. Victor released his hand and watched him stretch._

_“9:16.”_

_“Why are you on the floor? Come up here.”_

_Victor climbed onto the sofa next to Yuuri, who’d pulled his knees up to his chin with a smile to make room for him. As soon as Victor settled into a spot Yuuri slid over onto his lap and took his face in his hands._

_“Those roses are beautiful,” he whispered, rubbing his nose against Victor’s. “What’s the occasion?” he asked playfully._

_He probably didn’t remember, but that was fine with Victor. After all, Yuuri didn’t really have a memory for dates._

_“It’s exactly six months since the most important day in my life.”_

_“Oh?”_

_“I met you.”_

_Yuuri buried his face in Victor’s neck. “Don’t say that! You’re making me blush!”_

_Victor enveloped him in a hug and pulled him closer. “It’s true. I love you, Yuuri. Meeting you is the most important thing that’s ever happened to me. And the happiest.”_

_Yuuri raised his eyes and Victor saw that he really was blushing. “Me too,” he whispered, slid his hands around Victor’s neck and kissed him._

_He didn’t pull away for a long time and when he did he whispered, “Tonight you can have anything you want.”_

_Victor didn’t remember how he found his way back to his seat, but he must’ve made it there, because his next clear memory was hearing the music start playing as the curtain drew apart._

_And there was Yuuri: standing with his legs slightly apart and a riding crop in his hands. Victor had seen Yuuri carry it around in several numbers, but he was still completely mystified as to what the point of it was._

_Yuuri was in a black pair of underwear, a pair of fishnet black tights and a jacket with long coat-tails, but with no sleeves. For some reason there was a pair of bunny years on his head. He stepped out slowly, each step making Victor’s heart beat faster._

_He sang the opening line of the song so softly that Victor missed every word. It was hard to focus on his words, anyway, when Yuuri was dressed the way he was. A pianist accompanied him as he danced in a way that was almost hypnotic._

_All around Victor people snapped to the tune and he joined in as well._

_“_ Why don’t you do right, like some other men do? _” He kicked his legs up in the air and turned slowly to show off the small fluffy white tail on his backside._

 _“_ Get outta here _,” he sang, coming to the front of the stage, “_ Make me some money too _.”_

_The people at the tables closest to him searched their pockets frantically._

_But Yuuri didn’t wait: he kept going. He had his eye on his target and walked towards it with slow and determined steps._

_Victor swallowed. Yuuri was coming for him._

_“_ Why don’t you do right, like some other men do? _” He held the riding crop out and slid it upwards over Victor’s chin._

_A bead of sweat trickled down the side of Victor’s face._

_“_ Get outta here. Make me some money too _.”_

_Yuuri turned away and danced with his back to Victor, one hand on his hip. He slipped off the stage onto Victor’s table and then down next to his chair, which he circled._

_“_ You’re sittin’ down wondrin’ what it’s all about _,” he sang, sitting himself down on Victor’s knee. “_ If you ain’t got no money they will, put you out. _” He went on, unbuttoning his coat with a slight roll of his shoulders. He gave Victor a wink at “put you out” and pulled the coat apart. “_ Why don’t you do right, like some other men do? _” He sprang up to his legs and tossed the coat onto the stage._

 _“_ Now if you had prepared 20 years ago _,” he sang, stepping behind Victor and leaning over his shoulder to slide a finger over his cheek, “_ you wouldn’t be a wandering now from door to door _.”_

_There was the riding crop again: Yuuri held it in front of Victor’s face, trapping him between his arms. He pressed his lips against Victor’s cheek and then worked his way down to his neck._

_Victor felt faint. Yuuri’s lips burned against his skin, making it impossible to breathe._

_And then Yuuri stepped away with Victor’s tie in his teeth._

_“_ Why don’t you do right, like some other men do? _” he sang, taking the tie out of his mouth. And even the way he did that made Victor’s knees shake._

_He watched Yuuri return to the stage and wondered if he would last through the rest of the performance._

_“_ Get outta here. Make me some money too _.”_

_All around him people were throwing money to Yuuri, running to the stage and reaching out as far as they could._

_Victor forgot that he lived with this man, that he’d been promised everything he wanted that night. In that moment, he was prepared to swear that Yuuri was the god Eros himself. And gods needed sacrifices. Victor rummaged in his pockets, pulled out all the cash he had on him and held several thousand rubles out in his hand, wondering how best to toss them._

_There was Yuuri right in front of him again, his hips right there at Victor’s eye level. And he did the only thing he could think of and stuffed all the money into Yuuri’s underwear._

_Yuuri blew him a kiss and held out one foot. It arced beautifully, ending in a black high-heeled shoe._

_Victor took it reverentially and pressed his lips against Yuuri’s skin._

_Yuuri’s foot slipped free and Victor was left with his shoe in his hand..._

“What the hell is this?” Yuri’s voice cut in, interrupting Victor’s memories. “Hey! You’re in this video too!”

They were only halfway through. The bad quality of the video and the terrible sound couldn’t do Yuuri’s voice and dance justice. They couldn’t explain that feeling Victor got when he was there in person, watching Yuuri dance for him. Or how wonderful it felt to get a poster with Yuuri in that outfit, lying on his back and kicking his legs up into the air with a smile. He’d gotten Yuuri to autograph it for him and, as usual, leave a lipstick imprint on it too.

“This is disgusting!” Yuri exclaimed.

Victor tried to take his phone away, but Yuri caught it.

“It’s not done yet.”

Mila giggled.

They watched it to the end and then Yuri pulled the phone to him and watched the whole thing again on his own, making odd faces every once in a while. Finally satisfied, he handed the phone back to Victor.

“You know, you’re really lucky you’re the living legend,” he teased, “otherwise he’d have to find someone who’s actually in his league.”

“Yuuri is in a league of his own.”

 

 _Where the hell did he find this guy?_ Yuri wondered as he watched the video. _And he’s dating Victor?_ He watched Victor’s reactions in the video and tried not to laugh. Then he looked at Victor’s innocent face and shook his head.

This wasn’t a man, he decided about Yuuri. This was some kind of… well, not _god_ , but some kind of supernatural being. He tried to think of a way to describe him and failed.

And then the supernatural being joined them.

“Victor?” a young man asked, entering the change room with the look of someone who wasn’t sure if they were allowed to be there.

 _No way!_ Yuri thought, almost shouting the words aloud. There was just _no way_ they were the same person. There was no way the innocent-looking young man in a big comfortable sweater and fashionable coat was the same as the one who was shaking his behind in Victor’s face.

“Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed, running to him, which shouldn’t have been possible to do in a small room, but he’d managed it somehow anyway.

They put their arms around each other and exchanged smiles instead of actual words. It was really sappy and disgusting.

“Anyway, I’m going home,” Yuri said, pushing past them and handing Victor’s phone back to him without another word.

“Have a safe trip home!” the other Yuuri said.

He wasn’t blushing, he just wasn’t. No, not at all.

Yuri got out of there before anyone else could say anything stupid.

 

They were both really tired when they came home that evening. Victor dropped onto the couch with a sigh. It had all felt like one long day that just didn’t want to end. Yuuri slipped onto his knee with a smile.

There was something important he’d forgotten. He tried his best to remember what it was, but Yuuri was on top of him and pushing him onto the couch until his head was on the armrest and that was all he could think about anymore.

Yuuri sat up and pulled his sweater off. He got that slightly dishevelled look that always made Victor blush, but he was blushing for a different reason now.

There was something complicated with straps covering Yuuri’s torso and it included two diagonal lines of tassels that met in the middle of his chest. Victor reached out and trailed his fingers over it.

“What do you think?” Yuuri asked, leaning down for a kiss.

Victor opened his mouth to say something like “beautiful”, or “it suits you” when his eye fell on the clock on the wall. “I remember what it was!” he exclaimed, making Yuuri sit up in alarm. He smiled as reassuringly as he could and apologized for his outburst.

“What is it?” Yuuri asked with a chuckle, leaning close again.

“My parents will be here in an hour.”

“What?” He sat up quickly. “Here?”

“Yes. Sorry, I… it must’ve slipped my mind. They called this morning and said they were coming.” How could he have forgotten something so important? Would Yuuri be angry with him for not warning him sooner?

“Just like that? You never say a word about your parents and now you tell me they’ll be here in an hour?” Yuuri asked. He was upset.

Victor apologized several times, but Yuuri waved the apology aside impatiently. “They work in Moscow and don’t really have time to visit St. Petersburg that often,” Victor explained, the expression on his face still an apologetic one.

“Oh.” Yuuri mulled this over. “So, what do they do?”

“They work for the government,” Victor answered simply.

“Victor,” Yuuri said slowly, “do you think we should take some of the posters down from the walls?”

“Why?”

“Because I’m naked on almost all of them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pop song mentioned in this ficlet/chapter doesn’t actually exist, but the song Yuuri sings does! It’s this one from Who Framed Roger Rabbit: [Why Don't You Do Right by Amy Irving](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fIXAT6fGUw4). If you watch this bit of the movie, you’ll probably see at least one reason I thought this should go next. And Yuuri wears the clothes from [a fanart I saw recently.](http://witharthurkirkland.tumblr.com/post/168449205468/sidhedraws-eros) Everything sort of came together perfectly for me for this ficlet  
> For anyone going “woah! Thousands of rubles!” Try converting 1000 rubles to the currency of your choice. Sorry, Yuuri. You’re worth all the money in the world, trust me.  
> I don’t know how many people are paying attention to the growing number of tags on this fic, but I’m having lots of fun with all the Yuuris. If you have more ideas, let me know!


	6. Mr. and Mrs. Nikiforov

There was a mad scramble, as if instead of Victor’s parents the inspection was about to arrive. Despite Victor’s protests, Yuuri took down every poster in the living room. He left the ones in Victor’s – that is: _their_ – bedroom, reasoning that his parents wouldn’t actually go there. He then spent a good fifteen minutes going through his closet in an attempt to find something suitable to wear.

Victor, after watching Yuuri take the posters down, got up from the couch and went to the kitchen to make them all dinner without another word.

Afterwards Yuuri paced the living room anxiously, throwing looks at the clock every few minutes. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this nervous about meeting someone.

“Yuuri!” Victor called from the kitchen.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang.

He hesitated for just a moment and, next thing he knew, Victor was standing at the door and happily greeting his parents as Makkachin gave them his own greeting.

Yuuri watched them exchange hugs and kisses, watched them hand Victor a big box of chocolates and a bottle of alcohol and realized with a pang just how much he missed his own parents.

How many years had it been since he’d seen them last?

He put on his friendliest smile and went to greet them. “Yuuri Katsuki. Nice to meet you.”

Yuuri froze as kind and loving parents melted away to be replaced by two very serious people who regarded him coolly. It had been a long time since someone had studied him with such a critical expression on their face.

“Maria Nikiforov” and “Andrei Nikiforov” was how they introduced each other.

“We came here to meet you,” Maria said. “We wanted to see what sort of boy our son is dating.”

 _And, presumably, interfere if I’m not to your liking,_ Yuuri added mentally. It wasn’t fair to them, but he was still getting over the shock of Victor’s parents dropping in without any advance warning.

Yuuri studied Mr. and Mrs. Nikiforov with as much interested as they gave him. Victor really resembled his parents. Looking at them, Yuuri could imagine what Victor would look like in twenty years. The thought was followed by the realization that he wanted to be by Victor’s side then.

It got awkward after that. Victor, as always a little bad at reading the atmosphere, invited them enthusiastically to the kitchen and set the table there.

His parents watched Yuuri, as if they were waiting for him to do something wrong, but he helped Victor as if he didn’t notice them watching.

 _It’s not that bad_ , he tried to tell himself. _I’m sure we’ll get along better after we get a chance to talk to each other a bit more._

And then his eye fell on the wall opposite and he froze.

He’d forgotten about the poster in the kitchen!

Sure there were love letters pinned to the fridge with his lipstick on them, but that paled in comparison to the meter-long poster of him completely naked (apart from a pair of sheer stockings that only reached up to his thighs). He sat sideways to the viewer, one leg bent under him and the other stretched out behind him. One arm was draped over the back of his chair with a rose between his fingers while the other held a fan, covering a part of his face. His eyes were half closed as a seductive smile played on his lips. There were several roses lying in his lap, just enough to cover him up.

Yuuri remembered the day it had arrived in the mail. Apparently, Victor had found it somewhere online and had it express delivered to his apartment. But, try as he might, Yuuri couldn’t remember posing for the poster at all. The poster had brought a blush to Victor’s face when he’d pulled it out and then the skater spent an entire afternoon unable to decide where to hang the poster.

He wasn’t sure why he’d settled on the kitchen in the end. Maybe it was because this poster was his favourite and Victor spent most of his time in the kitchen. Once Yuuri had walked in to find Victor’s lips pressed against the image of Yuuri’s face. He debated then if he should strip and drape himself over a chair in an imitation of the poster, but, for some reason, he never got a chance to do it.

He’d been flattered by Victor’s attention to the poster at the time. Now he cursed the stupid thing.

Yuuri forced himself to go on as if the poster wasn’t there, determined to keep Victor’s parents from turning their heads and looking at it.

“So, Yuuri, what do you do for a living?” Maria asked.

His eyes flickered to the poster on the wall.

“Yuuri is a burlesque dancer!” Victor answered happily before Yuuri could decide what to say.

“You’re a dancer! How interesting!”

_Surely they know! There is just no way that they don’t! It was all over the newspapers after the Grand Prix!_

“You lived in Switzerland before,” Andrei said. It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact. “And now you’ve moved in with Victor.”

He waited for the question, but it never came. _Yes, I did. And what’s wrong with that? I pay my half of the rent!_ “Yes.” He finished setting the table and watched Victor serve them all food.

“Our Victor is a legend, but he’s very naïve when it comes to love,” Maria told him.

Yuuri watched Victor blush and wondered if he was blushing at the mention of how innocent he’d been or at the realization that he wasn’t innocent anymore and that his parents had no idea of this.

Maria meanwhile was studying the kitchen like someone who was considering moving in. Any minute now she would turn around and see that embarrassing poster.

“In fact,” Maria went on after a while, “we weren’t sure if Victor liked boys or girls until he met you.”

Yuuri looked at Victor. _You never told me I was your sexual awakening!_

Victor took Yuuri’s hand and kissed it.

 _No, no. You’re doing it wrong._ Yuuri freed his hand gently, took Victor’s face with both hands and kissed him. _And now I’m kissing you in front of your parents. So much for good impressions…_

He expected Victor to pull away, but Victor held on. Yuuri ended the kiss himself and turned around to face Victor’s parents.

“I’m a burlesque dancer. It means I don’t just dance, but sing and strip too.” He saw their eyes widen in surprise. “That’s where Victor found me,” he finished and waited to see what their reactions would be.

Victor was still blushing after the kiss. His parents exchanged a look.

“Well… That’s interesting.”

He felt Victor take both his hands and turned his head to watch him.

“Yuuri is the best dancer I’ve ever seen,” he whispered reverentially.

There was a short pause and then, as if Victor’s words had settled the matter, the atmosphere changed and Yuuri found himself questioned about his job: where he worked, where he trained, how long had he been performing for and so on.

Yuuri answered each question, feeling Victor watch him.

“You should both come visit us!” Andrei suddenly decided and there was something very Victor-like in his tone. He exchanged a look with his wife.

“Are you free this weekend?” Maria asked.

“Well, yes, but –” Yuuri began.

“Then you can pack your things and we’ll all go together right now!” Maria decided for them. She smiled at Yuuri. “We want to get to know you better. We’d stay here, but there’s no room in Victor’s apartment for all of us.”

What could he say after that? That he’d planned to spend the evening alone with Victor? That he was still wearing the lingerie he’d put on for the first time just for their evening together?

Victor agreed for the both of them and Yuuri left to pack everything he’d need for an overnight stay.

There was a hushed conversation in the kitchen and then Victor joined him.

Yuuri realised he was holding his breath. Holding his breath and waiting for Victor to say something like, “My parents don’t approve of you,” but instead Victor caught Yuuri in a happy embrace and went on about his home and his old room.

Yuuri’s heart was beating fast. This was turning into more than just a visit to get to know someone.

He realized then that he wasn’t ready for any of this, but it was too late to back out now, so he packed his things and followed Victor and his parents downstairs and outside to their car.

He and Victor sat in the back together with Makkachin between them. Victor’s arms were around Yuuri as he buried his face in Yuuri’s neck.

Victor’s parents talked to each other the whole way there, occasionally throwing looks at the backseat over their shoulders.

All this brought back more memories he wasn’t ready for. He thought about the few family trips he’d made back home in Japan. He thought of his own parents checking up on him and his sister Mari.

Victor’s lips were pressed against the skin behind his ear. Could he tell what was on Yuuri’s mind?

They didn’t say a single word the whole ride long.

 

_When Victor was younger he lived in a house just outside St. Petersburg. He’d spent a lot of time travelling between it and the skating rink where he’d trained for all of his competitions. He used to think of his house as a safe and comfortable place. Everything was better there. His parents were all-powerful and could do anything. They could easily fix all of his problems._

_Or so he’d thought._

_On his 20th birthday he felt lonely. On his 21st he became convinced that he’d always be lonely and that no one could help him. Before his 22nd birthday he moved out, feeling broken and disillusioned about his parents._

_And then he won his first gold at World’s and for a while life got a new meaning…_

Yuuri wrapped his arms around Victor’s left arm. “Are you alright?”

Victor smiled at him. “I am now.”

They entered his parents’ home together. Yuuri stayed by his side the whole time, all through the evening as they sat on the couch across from his parents.

 _Yuuri is here now,_ he thought before drifting off, _and everything will be fine…_

 

Yuuri watched Victor fall asleep with the growing realization that he didn’t have it in him to wake the skater up. He would have to do it eventually, he told himself. They couldn’t stay here all night.

“He really trusts you,” Maria said with a sad smile. “And he found happiness with you.”

 _What does that mean? What do you want?_ He stared at both of them as they exchanged a look.

“He wasn’t always happy,” Maria said after a while.

 _I know,_ Yuuri thought as Victor slept on, on his shoulder.

“He um…” She threw a look at her husband. “…He struggled a lot after he won his first gold medal. With each victory it only got worse.” She joined her hands and stared down at them. “We tried to keep it a secret from the press. And for a while he was seeing a psychiatrist regularly…”

Andrei reached out and put an arm over her shoulders.

“It didn’t really help.” She lowered her head further. “And then he pushed us away. He didn’t want to see us anymore.”

Victor shifted in his sleep and Yuuri raised a hand to pull him closer.

“He had enough money and he was old enough to move out and live on his own…” She struggled to continue after that. Yuuri couldn’t help the feeling that she was trying to come up with an excuse for something, as if she knew she was guilty of doing something wrong, but needed to justify herself. For some reason she was trying to justify herself to Yuuri.

And then he realized what she was trying to tell him and anger overwhelmed all his other emotions.

“So you left him to struggle alone?” he exclaimed, forgetting that Victor had fallen asleep on his shoulder. “What sort of parents are you? It doesn’t matter what he does! He’s your son! He pushes you away, you stand there for him, anyway!”

Victor stirred in his sleep and Yuuri turned to him.

“Yuuri… what… Why are you shouting?” Victor murmured, sitting up.

“Let’s go to your room,” Yuuri said with a sad smile. “You haven’t shown it to me yet.” He got up and helped Victor rise to his feet.

He left the room without looking at Victor’s parents.

It was so easy to look at him and Victor and think that everything was perfect. It was so easy to make the mistake that now they’d found each other all of their problems were solved and they were always happy.

The truth wasn’t as idyllic as that.

There were days when Victor’s mind would play tricks on him. When the blackness would swallow him up and tell him that Yuuri never existed, that he would come home to find it empty, except for Makkachin. On those days he learned to call Yuuri who would drop everything and come running. Neither of them would say anything, since no explanation was needed. Victor would merely call and say “I miss you” and his tone of voice would tell Yuuri everything.

It wasn’t easy for Yuuri either: he’d have his dark days and then it would be Victor’s turn to come and see him. Because even though they lived together under one roof now, Yuuri worked nights and Victor practiced in the mornings, which meant that most days they’d barely see each other.

Yuuri would wake up early in the afternoon, keep his eyes closed and his nose would tell him that Victor was still there, while his hands would insist that, no, he’d already left. And sometimes he would reach out and find that Victor had left a rose behind for Yuuri in his place. There would always be breakfast in the kitchen and a note from Victor signed with a little heart. Yuuri would always leave a lipstick imprint over it and then stick it on the fridge.

Yuuri had an agreement with his boss that he wouldn’t be asked to work on days when Victor competed and, with the success he enjoyed, he was allowed this little breach of the rules. Victor’s visits were technically another breach of the rules, but the owner of the club saw it more as an advertisement than anything else.

A few hours ago Yuuri expected to have a fun night with Victor, but now he was pulling his pajamas on and watching Victor strip down to his underwear before dropping onto the bed.

Yuuri slipped under the blankets next to Victor and wrapped his arms around him. His hand slipped over Victor’s chest to stop right over his heart. “I love you,” he said into Victor’s ear. “And I don’t want you to ever doubt it.”

“I love you too,” Victor whispered back.

 

The morning found them making breakfast together. Victor’s parents were still asleep. Yuuri and Victor exchanged kisses as they passed ingredients to each other. And then, on a whim, Yuuri started to hum something. Victor hummed along.

“ _When I get low, oh, I get high_ ,” Yuuri sang softly. “ _All this hard luck in this town has found me. Nobody knows but the troubles are all around me._ ”

Victor took out his phone, found the song and played it. He set the phone on the table, took Yuuri by the hands and pulled him into a dance.

They moved back and forth together, following the music, pulling each other close. Yuuri spun Victor around and Victor ended up with his back pressed against Yuuri’s chest and all of their arms wrapped around him.

Makkachin came into the kitchen and sat down under the table out of their way. He watched their dance in silence.

Yuuri laughed as Victor dipped him with a smile.

That was how Victor’s parents discovered them, no doubt drawn to the kitchen by all the noise. Yuuri straightened up and set the table as if nothing had happened. He didn’t like it when someone intruded on the two of them together and Victor’s parents were starting to feel more like intruders than family.

Breakfast passed in a cold silence and then Yuuri got up, washed the dishes and left to pack his things to go home. Victor found him in his room when Yuuri was almost done.

“My parents are worried that you don’t approve of them,” he admitted after a long silence.

Yuuri looked at him. “I like your room,” he said. “It’s very warm and comfortable here.” He walked around the perimeter and stopped by the bookcase in the corner, pretending he was interested in the books there. “I can imagine you here when you were younger.”

“I grew up as an only child,” Victor said. “And they probably spoiled me more than they should’ve. I remember how whenever I asked for something I would always get it.” Victor joined him, wrapping his arms around Yuuri. “Why are you mad at them?” he whispered.

Yuuri pulled Victor closer, “Because I am.” He dared Victor to say anything to that, but the skater remained silent.

Victor’s parents drove them back to their apartment and they parted with a half-promise to see each other again. Yuuri went up the stairs thinking about their conversation about Victor and throwing looks at him from time to time. Would he ever forgive his parents for what they’d done?

Maybe one day…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poster with Yuuri is based off [this NSFW vintage pinup art](https://iwanttobeapinup.files.wordpress.com/2013/02/pict_kb_afcp36-elvgren_gil-bewitching.jpg). The song they dance to (and sing) is [this one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rPnXCPmrV3Y) (I know this isn't the original version, but I really like this version).
> 
> Sorry this ficlet got a little dark and angsty... It's probably the only one that will. Probably. Also each time I look at the chapter title I'm tempted to ask who will be shot.


	7. A Perfect Birthday

A figure lay on a pile of cushions, hands raised over his head. One leg was playfully bent at the knee, the other was stretched out, as if to show off the dainty red shoe on the end of it.

Eros smiled at the audience and gave a soft sigh. He was in a body harness which was nothing more than white straps criss-crossing over his chest and abdomen with white flowers sewn over them. There was a flower in his hair.

“ _Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree_ ,” he closed his eyes as a hand slid over his chest and under the flowers, “ _for me_.” His eyes snapped open and he fixed his stare on the audience. “ _Been an awful good boy_.”

There was the briefest pause and, “ _Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight_ ,” he sang in a voice guaranteed to make anyone drop everything and rush to his side.

“ _Santa baby, an auto space convertible too, light blue. I’ll wait up for you, dear_ ,” he gave a little wave with his hand. “ _Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight_.”

The next moment he was standing in front of the audience, both hands sliding down over his thighs as he sang, “ _Think of all the fun I’ve missed. Think of all the fellas that I haven’t kissed_.” He blew a kiss at the audience and got a few cheers in response. “ _Next year I could be just as good_ ,” he lowered his eyes, as if to say that he was very innocent, but at the same time knowing that no one was fooled. “ _If you’ll check off my Christmas list_.”

He turned around and danced with his back to the audience, giving his behind a little shake, “ _Santa honey, I want a yacht and really that’s not_ ,” he looked over his shoulder and winked at the audience, “ _a lot. Been an angel all year. Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight_.” One perfect hand slid down his side all the way to his thigh.

“ _Come and trim my_ ,” he paused, winked and kept going, “ _Christmas tree_ _with some decorations bought at_ ," he paused again, “ _Tiffany's_.” His top slid off his shoulder and he sang on, as if he didn’t notice. “ _I really do believe in you. Let’s see if you believe in me_.” It fell to the floor and he turned around to show off his bare chest, all covered in sparkles.

“ _Santa baby_ ,” he sang on with a smile, his hands on his chest, “ _forgot to mention one little thing, a ring_.” He held one hand up into the air, as if to show how ring-less it was. “ _I don’t mean on the phone_ ,” he added with an adorable pout. “ _Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight_.” He bent his knees and beckoned the audience with his finger. “ _Hurry down the chimney tonight_ ,” he whispered in a tone of voice that made hearts beat faster. “ _Hurry, tonight_ ,” he whispered even softer and at least half the room was wondering if they got a Santa costume would Eros give them something in exchange.

Eros swayed slowly until the music ended and then he froze on the stage.

The audience broke out into applause and whistles. He waved back and blew several kisses.

Eros waited for the audience to quieten down. “Today is a very special day,” he whispered, “and so I’d like to sing something special.” He paused and gave the audience a smile that made several hearts stop and others – beat faster. “Feel free to join in.”

He slipped off the stage and down to the table where Victor sat. Eros picked a spot right in front of Victor and sang. His bare chest sparkled in the dim lights of the room.

“Happy birthday to you,” he breathed out, sliding a hand over the table towards him. “Happy birthday to you.” It was the most erotic version of the song Victor had ever heard. “Happy birthday, dear Victor.” He paused and, in a voice that was suddenly completely serious and no longer so seductive, he finished, “Happy birthday to you.”

Victor blushed and kissed Eros’s hand.

He’d invited his friends to the club to celebrate with him. They were all there and they were all watching. Even Yakov came this time.

Eros slipped away, returning to the stage and then made his usual exit, complete with the clicking of his heels.

The lights turned off and then back on again, brighter and less intimate this time, and excited chatter filled the room.

Everyone took Eros’s song as their cue and suddenly Victor was showered with birthday wishes from all sides. Chris clapped him on the shoulder, as everyone wished Victor the very best, not bothering to wait for anyone to finish, just shouting all at once.

He smiled at all of them, looking around the table and murmuring his thanks. He was so happy in that moment.

A hand circled around him and slipped over his chest and into his inside pocket and there was Yuuri – leaning over his ear and dropping birthday wishes into it.

Victor smiled at him too. “Thank you! Everyone, really, thank you!”

Yuuri released him and took a seat.

A waiter brought out a cake with candles and they sang “happy birthday” again, all together this time.

Yuuri sat really close to him, close enough for their knees to touch under the table. He was dressed in something dark and made of velvet.

Victor made a wish and blew out the candles, one hand gripping Yuuri’s as he did so.

They clapped and Yuuri planted a kiss on his cheek.

It was everything Victor could ever wish for. No, it was more.

 

They returned home late and a little tipsy from the champagne, doing a little dance through the door of their apartment. Somehow they ended up sitting in the kitchen, debating if they wanted any more drinks that night.

Victor made tea instead, which they drank in a comfortable silence.

“I got you something,” Yuuri said, leaving the room only to return with a box that was nicely wrapped and quite big. “Do you want to guess what it is?”

“I’m not very good at guessing,” Victor admitted.

Yuuri handed the box to him and watched him unwrap it.

“Oh, Yuuri,” Victor murmured as he opened the box and pulled the present out.

“I want to see you try it on,” Yuuri told him.

Victor did just that.

“You look very elegant,” Yuuri whispered, slipping up to Victor with a smile.

Victor stood in a long dark coat, admiring the sleeves.

“That old coat of yours needs to be thrown out,” Yuuri said, “so I got you a new one.”

Victor pulled it off slowly and draped it over the back of a chair. He reached out for Yuuri with both hands, who all but leapt into his embrace.

“Can you…” Victor whispered into Yuuri’s ear, “can you wear your heels to bed tonight?”

Yuuri’s hands slipped upwards over Victor’s back. “Yes…”

 

Victor sat naked on the bed as he unbuttoned Yuuri’s top. He always enjoyed watching Yuuri undress, but there was also something fun about doing the honours himself.

Yuuri had really taken to complicated lingerie lately, which meant that Victor had to lay him down on the bed, spread his legs and slide his hands over Yuuri’s thighs until he could catch the clasps. He always worried he would hurt Yuuri in some way, but Yuuri would recline on the pillows and breathe heavily each time Victor’s fingers passed a sensitive spot. Sometimes Yuuri would gasp and then Victor would press a kiss tenderly against the sensitive spot, as if in apology, but only making Yuuri gasp a second time.

Finally Yuuri was free of the harness. All he had on was a garter on his left leg and a choker around his neck. And a pair of beautiful black heels, of course.

Victor’s fingers traced out the garter, staying on Yuuri’s outer thigh this time. “Should I take it off?” he whispered.

Yuuri sat up with a smile. “No.”

Victor’s eyes were on the choker around Yuuri’s neck next. Seeing it gave him an idea. “Hold on,” he said, slipped off the bed and left the room.

He returned several minutes later with his Grand Prix gold medal hanging from his neck. “It’s the one you helped me win,” he explained, sitting down on the bed.

Yuuri reached out and took the medal in both hands. They slid up over the ribbon that held the medal. His eyes met Victor’s making the skater swallow nervously. Here they were, about to make love to each other and still Victor felt Yuuri’s appeal hit him with a force that almost knocked the breath right out of him.

“It’s a little long,” Yuuri whispered, “might be a little awkward…”

“Worried I’ll hit you with it accidentally?” Victor joked.

Yuuri laughed. “I think I have a better idea. Raise your arms over your head for me, please.”

He pulled the living legend’s hard-earned sixth Grand Prix gold over his head, brought Victor’s arms together over his head, bending them at the elbows and tied them to each other with the ribbon, the gold medal dangling just over Victor’s head.

Victor chuckled. “Now what?”

“Hmmm…” Yuuri studied him critically, as if Victor was posing for a photo. “You still need something on your neck. How about this?”

He pulled his choker off and put it on Victor.

Victor wasn’t sure what Yuuri was up to, but he didn’t say anything, content to wait and see what Yuuri would do next.

Yuuri got up, applied his lipstick and slid onto Victor’s knees. “My dear birthday boy,” he whispered, one hand sliding up the middle of Victor’s back as the second one made its way over his shoulder and up into his hair. He planted a kiss on Victor’s cheek, then on his jaw, then on two different places on his neck. Victor’s chest got rewarded with four deep red kisses. His abdomen got three. Each of his arms got five.

Yuuri’s hands slid down over Victor’s back. He could feel each finger pressing against his skin, making his heart beat faster.

And then Yuuri was on his knees in front of him, right between his legs.

Victor blushed as Yuuri teased him with kisses on the calves and then a couple on each knee.

Yuuri kissed Victor’s leg on the inside of his thigh as close to his knee as he could and then he moved nearer.

Victor was having trouble breathing.

Yuuri’s kisses were getting slower and closer together. He was halfway down Victor’s thigh now.

Victor was sure he wasn’t breathing anymore.

Yuuri kept going, planting little kisses, one after the next. He got to the spot where Victor’s leg ended and pulled away.

Victor breathed out.

“I need to freshen up my lipstick,” Yuuri told him.

“Yuuri…” Victor whispered, his voice sounding hoarse, almost as if it was someone else’s.

“Hmmm…?” Yuuri offered the lipstick to Victor.

“I… I….”

Yuuri sat down on Victor’s lap and wrapped his arms around him, pressing his chest against Victor’s. “What is it?” he whispered.

Victor took a deep breath and whispered, “Thank you.”

“But I haven’t done anything yet.”

“Today was the best birthday of my life,” Victor went on. “From waking up by your side to this moment right here and right now.”

Yuuri pulled away and looked at him.

“I love you,” Victor continued. “These weeks we’ve lived together were some of the happiest in my life.” He smiled wider, forgetting for a moment about his tied up arms, forgetting they were both naked and about to have sex. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I was going to propose properly, get us a nice restaurant and then, over a glass of good champagne I was going to ask the big question, with the ring in my hand, on the floor at your feet, but,” he chuckled softly, “but I seem to have messed it up. Sorry. Will you let me do it properly later?”

Tears poured down Yuuri’s cheeks. He put his hands over his face.

“Can you… untie me please?” Victor asked.

Yuuri untied the medal and dropped it onto the bed. Victor caught him around the waist.

“Sorry for making you cry,” Victor said into Yuuri’s ear. “Twice, too.”

“I’m so happy…” Yuuri whispered, wrapping his arms around Victor. “Thank you.”

“I’m not the best person to live with,” Victor went on. “You know that: you’ve seen my inner demons, but–”

“I want to spend my whole life with you!” Yuuri interrupted him. “Every moment, in happiness, or in sadness.” He pulled away and looked into Victor’s eyes. “You mean the world to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Yuuri sings is [Santa Baby by Eartha Kitt](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jFMyF9fDKzE) . The last scene in this chapter was inspired by this really lovely art that I saw [here](https://twitter.com/sidesidething/status/944929324339212292).


	8. Asking Properly

Victor had lived long enough with Yuuri to know his tastes. He also knew that if he took Yuuri anywhere, it was best if the place was empty or mostly empty when they were there.

Victor had always attracted a lot of attention and, these days, so did Yuuri. It couldn’t be blamed on the way he dressed, because if Yuuri walked down the street in a pair of pants and a sweater, people turned around to look. No, it was Yuuri himself who was catching people’s eye.

He was stunning and Victor himself was becoming more aware of it with every day.

And, so, he found them a little place, tucked away from the rest of the busy city. It was unique in its retro look and had many positive reviews online and Victor did his utmost best to find a time when no one else would visit.

Which, coincidentally, ended up being the day before the Russian Nationals.

The drive there was the most enjoyable torture in the world. He had to keep his eyes on the road and away from Yuuri, which was impossible.

Somehow they’d made it in one piece without getting into any accidents.

Victor parked the car and turned to take in Yuuri’s appearance.

His date was at his most elegant that day. He was in something short and made from black velvet. He could see black lace peeking out from underneath and he just _knew_ that Yuuri was in that black lace lingerie he’d ordered a couple of weeks ago.

Victor’s mouth dropped open as Yuuri pulled one side of the black velvet – was it a dress? it certainly looked like one! – dress and pulled up the black stockings that barely reached his mid-thigh. He gave Victor a smile.

He didn’t notice how he undid his belt and leaned over Yuuri to snatch a kiss.

Yuuri held up a hand to stop him. “You promised to take me to a restaurant,” he reminded Victor softly.

He swept out of the car, circled it and opened the door for Yuuri, too embarrassed to say anything else. He offered his arm to the boy as soon as he stepped out and even the way Yuuri got out of the car made Victor’s head spin.

He was going to impress Yuuri with this new place he’d found. He was going to spend the evening over delicious food, exchanging smiles with the boy before finally, _finally_ , doing what he’d come here to do.

But nothing went according to this plan.

Yuuri stepped inside and all the waiters ran to grab his coat. Then, for some reason, they were pulling his chair out for him while telling him what an honour he was doing them all by coming.

Victor took his seat in silence. He let Yuuri order their food and gathered his courage as best as he could for what came next.

Technically, he’d already asked the question, but it didn’t count, because he wanted to do this properly. And no amount of annoying waiters was going to stop him.

Dinner passed in an awkward conversation as Victor tried to make small talk and failed entirely. Yuuri said something about the food and sent the waiters off to get different things he didn’t really need.

Victor caught his eye and understood. _He’s trying to give us a moment alone, but…_

No, it was no good. He couldn’t do it.

The little box in his inside pocket pressed against his chest, reminding him about its existence.

Yuuri gave a little sigh as the waiters rushed back up to him, tripping over each other. “Can you give us a couple of minutes alone, please?” he asked, not bothering with excuses or hints this time.

And, just like that, in a blink of an eye, the restaurant was waiter-free.

Yuuri reached out and put his hand over Victor’s, which was still stupidly gripping the fork. “Did you want to say something?”

Victor raised his eyes and shook his head. _Yes, yes I did! I’m such an idiot! Why am I getting so flustered now? Why?_

Yuuri rose to his feet, walked around the table, moved the dishes out of his away and slipped onto the table right in front of Victor. Victor was suddenly aware of just how close his hands were to Yuuri’s thighs and they moved without him giving it a single thought.

Yuuri reclined his head and gave a sigh.

 _We’re in a restaurant,_ Victor reminded himself. _Sure, it’s empty here now, but someone can walk in any minute and see us._

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. _Of course you are! You’re Yuuri, which means that you’re always beautiful at any time of day or night, no matter what happens._

He remembered that this was his date, the man he lived with, the one he was taking home afterwards. He gathered his courage. “Can I take your picture?” And asked the wrong question.

Yuuri nodded and Victor pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Yuuri draped himself over the table with a smile and walked around to lean over it towards Victor. He’d modelled for long enough to know just the right poses to strike for the camera. All Victor had to do was hold his phone up and push a button.

He forgot all about the waiters and thought only of the man in front of him, whose picture he took over and over again, until his phone was sure to start running out of memory.

After several hundred photos Victor felt himself tremble. He was never going to ask the question. Surely Yuuri deserved to hear it asked properly? He must’ve known what this was all about and now he was disappointed with Victor. Any minute now one of the waiters would return and Yuuri would ask for the bill with a tired expression and suggest that they go home.

The phone slipped out of his hands and landed on the floor with a loud bang.

Yuuri took Victor’s face with both hands. “Victor, are you alright? You’ve gone pale.”

Victor’s knees buckled under him and he dropped to one knee. His fingers slipped frantically into the inside pocket of his jacket until he got what he needed.

“Will you marry me, Yuuri?”

Yuuri laughed, his arms pulling Victor in closer. “Didn’t I already say “yes”?”

“Y-you did, but I thought… I promised I would ask you properly,” Victor stammered out, the box with the ring still in his hand.

Yuuri pulled away and took the ring out of Victor’s hand. “I will,” he said.

When the waiters returned Yuuri was sitting on the table as Victor slipped the ring over his finger. They were both blushing, eyes fixed on each other.

“My turn now,” Yuuri whispered and reached for Victor’s right hand.

Victor’s heart leapt in his chest. The ring slipped onto his finger and he had a strong sense of belonging.

“I promise to look after you,” Yuuri said, “all your life, no matter what happens.”

Victor nodded, unable to say the words he’d prepared for the occasion.

“Tomorrow I want you to seduce me with all that you have,” Yuuri whispered and planted a kiss on Victor’s hand.

The meaning of those words didn’t sink in until the next day. The next day when he was preparing himself mentally before going out on the ice, tuning out another of Yakov’s lectures as usual, the words dropped on him without a warning, his memory supplying him with the passionate tone of Yuuri’s voice.

“Victor?” Yakov asked, grabbing him by the arm.

Victor raised his eyes and met those of his coach. “I…”

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out. It was a message from Yuuri. He knew it was without even checking.

“I’m fine,” he said and turned away.

But his coach refused to let him off that easily. “Listen, Victor, if…” he hesitated, “look, I don’t really know how to say this, but if there’s something going on… in your personal life that’s getting in the way of your skating…”

Victor turned and the next words froze on Yakov’s lips. “It’s fine,” he said with a smile. “Better than fine, actually.” He took a deep breath and pulled the glove off his right hand.

He couldn’t explain why he’d been so nervous to show his ring to anyone or talk about his engagement, but he’d arrived at the competition, wearing gloves and telling everyone who would listen that he was cold.

Yuuri didn’t know: he’d headed straight for the seats, leaving Victor to get ready on his own.

Yakov stared at the ring in silence. “Congratulations,” he finally said like someone who knew that was what had to be said at a time like this, but didn’t really believe it themselves.

Victor threw his arms around his coach. “He said yes! Can you believe it? He agreed to marry me!”

His coach chuckled and patted him on the back. “So is that what it was? Did you really think he would turn you down?”

Victor pulled away and listened to his coach tell him that no one turned down living legends, especially when they were handsome young men. “And, besides,” Yakov concluded, “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“I’m really lucky,” Victor added.

Yakov laughed. “If you want to put it that way. Are you ready to skate now?”

He was, he really was. There was one thing, though.

He opened Yuuri’s message.

 _Good luck,_ Yuuri wrote. The words were followed by a kiss mark emoji.

Would he dare to look at the photos Yuuri sent this time? He blushed deeper, remembering the last time Yuuri had sent him photos right before a competition.

_I need to see what he sent me. I can’t go out there without knowing. The suspense will kill me._

This time the photos looked like they were straight from a magazine. One of them even came with a letter that had all the details of the magazine that would include them.

Victor carefully committed every word to memory, promising himself that he would get his hands on a copy as soon as it came out, no matter what the price for it was, no matter how hard it would be to find. And then he would frame every picture of Yuuri in it and put them up in the apartment.

He took a deep breath and opened the first picture.

Yuuri stood against a doorway in loose white shirt, a pair of jeans and tall black leather boots that went over his knees. It was a combination that really suited him.

Feeling braver, Victor opened the next photo.

Yuuri was dressed the same way, lounging on a couch, one leg bent at the knee as his arm rested on it.

His heart beat faster, but the next three pictures all had Yuuri in the same outfit in different rooms of this house.

Finally the last picture showed Yuuri in nothing but the boots and several thin black leather belts snaking around his waist. He sat with a wistful expression on his face, one leg positioned in just the right way to cover his privates from view, and stared out at the sea in front of him.

“Well?” Yakov said from somewhere behind him.

“Thank you,” Victor whispered and put his phone away. “I’m ready,” he told his coach, willing himself to believe those words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can blame this chapter on [this music video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tT4d1LQy4es) and [this art](http://witharthurkirkland.tumblr.com/post/168287615153/dyeingdoll-kinktober-day-9-lingerie).
> 
> (I don't remember if I mentioned this before, but I seem to be collecting art of Yuuri in lingerie hahaha... so feel free to send more or links to more my way!)


	9. What I Learned

Yakov watched his pupil skate out onto the ice with mixed feelings. Victor had insisted on this program and then struggled with it. Yakov had watched Victor go over every element and get it just right, but miss the presentation by a mile.

There was no way around it: it was just too much at odds with his personality.

Victor tried his best, he really did, but…

Yakov had seen the articles they wrote about him. They weren’t flattering at all.

_Did the living legend reach the limit of his abilities?_

_No one doubts Mr. Nikiforov’s skills out on the ice,_ one article wrote, _but figure skating is more than just a technical score._

His performance of the short program wasn’t bad, everyone saw that, but the press, so keen to find and exploit a weakness just so it could get a story out of it, seized this opportunity to do just that.

He could see just how much all the articles upset his student.

Victor, being Victor, put in all his effort, doing everything he could think of, including inviting Yuuri to practice to get his help. Yuuri, who he was apparently now engaged to.

Yakov still had somewhat mixed feelings about Yuuri. Oh, he had nothing against the young man himself. He saw the change in Victor once Yuuri agreed to move in with him. Neither did he have anything against his profession. Not yet.

The press had somehow missed most of the story there. He wasn’t sure why, but, after hearing from Victor what sort of things his now fiancé did for money, Yakov was surprised the press hadn’t gotten wind of any of his activities.

Yakov had seen the posters: Victor had a big one in his change room locker.

On the ice Victor struck his initial pose and waited for the music to start.

The intro played and Victor swung his hips, smiling over his shoulder. He skated around in a circle with that same smile on his face.

Yakov watched, unable to do anything else now.

The hardest part for Victor in this routine was staying in character. He’d get halfway through the routine and dissolve into laughter.

 

_“No, no,” Yuuri exclaimed._

_Everyone on and around the ice turned to stare._

_Yuuri walked out onto the ice. He was in a pair of running shoes, a sweater and pants that were entirely unremarkable. But he didn’t let any of that stop him. Completely not bothered by the fact that he was standing on the ice without skates on, he swung his hips and repeated what Victor tried to do. He closed his eyes and ran his hands over his body._

_And when he did it, it_ worked.

_Victor’s skate looked too much like he was repeating something he’d seen._

_Yuuri moved in a way that felt natural. There must have been some magic at work because his clothing no longer mattered._

_The skaters watched him dance without making a sound._

_And he didn’t slip. Not even once._

_He returned to Victor, put his hands on the skater’s shoulders and sang the song, backing away as he did so._

_Yakov heard the whispers among the skaters afterwards. He saw the jealous looks they all threw in Victor’s direction._

_They were used to feeling jealous of Victor’s abilities. They_ weren’t _used to being jealous of his luck in love._

Victor blew a kiss and spun around. Several people in the audience exclaimed loudly. He slipped his hands over his shoulders as if he was undressing and all but floated over the ice as he did so.

Yakov leaned forward. “Come on, Vitya!” he muttered, knowing that Victor wouldn’t be able to hear him.

Victor jumped, kicking his legs up into the air and entered a spin. He went through the next dozen elements with an expression that was almost ecstatic.

He circled the rink, catching Yuuri’s eye and stopping right before him as if unable to go on. He slid his hands over his body with his eyes closed. His eyes snapped open and he kept going.

The audience swallowed it all up and waited eagerly for more.

His face was all red by the time he got to the end. He froze with his head arched back and his hands pressed to his face.

“Victor! Victor! Victor!” they all chanted.

He turned with a startled look on his face, as if he’d forgotten all about them. He looked at Yuuri who gave a little nod and blew him a kiss.

Victor turned away and skated to the kiss and cry.

Yakov headed over there to meet him. “Vitya! That was much better!”

“Was it?” Victor asked. “I…I think I got carried away,” he admitted. He sat down and lowered his head. “I was thinking about Yuuri,” he whispered. “I… uh… really need him right now.”

 _But he’s right here!_ Yakov thought.

“Victor!”

They looked up to see Yuuri running to them.

Victor rose to his feet and held out his arms. He didn’t ask what Yuuri thought of his skate, he merely pulled the boy into his embrace without another word.

“I’ll make a burlesque dancer of you, yet,” Yuuri whispered just loud enough for Yakov to hear. He caught Yakov’s eye and winked. “I’m taking your pupil away, coach. You’ll have to find another living legend to train.”

Yakov grumbled, but only half-heartedly.

Yuuri let out a gasp: Victor was kissing his neck.

That was the photo that was all over the news the next day: Victor kissing Yuuri, the performer’s hand resting on his back, the ring on his finger gleaming in the light and an ecstatic smile on his face.

But when the press published scandalous details of their life together, when it blew some details wildly out of proportion and added more neither of them really cared.

Victor shrugged at the articles. Yuuri joked that they had to censor details in order for them to be suitable for publishing.

And the video of Victor’s short program went viral.


	10. Yuuri Katsuki’s Music Video

This time it was Yuri who found the video and showed it to Mila. She resisted the urge to comment on that and focused her attention on the video instead.

 

_Slow, seductive music played as the camera filmed a figure in a bathtub from above._

_And then it was closer._

_A soapy hand slid over the side of the bathtub as a voice sang slowly, almost hypnotically. “_ How was I to know that this was always only just a little game to you? _”_

 _A knee rose from the soapy water and then a full leg, “_ All the time I felt you gave your heart I thought that I would do the same for you. _” The camera slid over it, almost as if the watcher’s hand was sliding over that leg and all the way to the perfect foot that artists would die to be allowed to sculpt._

_There was the hand again. The imaginary touch slid over that, past the elbow and up to the shoulder._

_Eros lay in the bathtub, singing with his eyes closed, “_ Tell the truth I think I should have seen it coming from a mile away when the words you say are: baby I'm a fool who thinks it’s cool to fall in love. _”_

 _He showed off a neck that begged to be kissed and shoulders that were worshipped in several cities. “_ If I gave a thought to fascination I would know it wasn’t right to care. Logic doesn’t seem to mind that I am fascinated by the love affair. _”_

 _Soapy water covered his chest and the rest of him from view as still he went on singing, “_ Still my heart would benefit from a little tenderness from time to time, but never mind, cause baby I’m a fool who thinks it’s cool to fall in love. _”_

_He slid into the water, his whole head disappearing under the soap._

_The slow music went on somewhere in the background. Victor Nikiforov, the living legend of figure skating, sat on a couch with a pair of bunny ears on his head, in a black corset that didn’t cover his chest at all and a pair of black underwear that left his hips very exposed. He smiled sweetly and held up a glass of champagne, showing off his elbow-length gloves as he did so._

_“_ Baby I should hold on just a moment and be sure it’s not for vanity _,” Yuuri sang on as Victor downed the contents of his glass. “_ Look me in the eye and tell me love is never based upon insanity _.”_

_He reclined on the sofa and crossed his legs. They were in sheer black stockings that only reached up to his thighs. Victor was also wearing a pair of shoes with stiletto heels that, while almost impossible to walk in, could easily kill someone._

_“_ Even when my heart is beating hurry up the moment’s fleeting _,” Yuuri’s head rose from the water, a million drops sliding down his face. He reclined with a defeated look on his face and closed his eyes._

 _His hands slid over his chest as it rose out of the water and the music seemed to stop. “_ Kiss me now _,” he almost gasped. Water slid down his neck and over his chest as the hypnotic song started up again. “_ Don’t ask me home _.”_

_Victor was still sitting on his couch._

_Yuuri walked up to him, stopping with his back to the camera. Maybe he was showing off how nicely laced up his red corset was, or the single black line that went up each leg of his nude-coloured thighs, or, perhaps, the backside that his thong wasn’t covering at all._

_“_ Cause baby I’m a fool who thinks it’s cool to fall _.” He sat down next to Victor and removed the bunny ears from his head, as Victor stared at him as if hypnotized, “_ Baby I’m a fool who thinks it’s cool to fall _,” he slid a finger over Victor’s cheek and leaned in for a kiss, raising a fan made from black lace to cover them from view._

 _“_ And I would never tell if you became a fool and fell in love _.”_

Much later Victor admitted that the only way he could convince Yuuri to make the music video was by agreeing to be in it as well and wearing whatever Yuuri gave him.

The day after the video appeared online Victor showed up to practice with a faint blush on his face.

The Russian skating team surrounded him as soon as he walked into the change room. Some of them clapped him on the back and some of them muttered that he could do what he wanted in his free time, of course, but he had to remember that he was representing a whole country.

Victor gave them all a big innocent smile and even the strictest of the bunch found that they couldn’t stay angry with him for long.

He’d already apologized to Yakov and the coach didn’t have it in his heart to lecture him on the subject. Besides, even Yakov couldn’t argue with the fact that Yuuri was having a positive influence on Victor’s skating.

Yuuri showed up later to pick Victor up from practice.

“You have a very talented pupil,” he said, standing next to Yakov and watching the skating team.

Yakov gave him a wary look and Yuuri turned to smile at him. “Don’t worry. I won’t take him away. I know how much he loves figure skating.”

“Not as much as he loves you,” Yakov pointed out.

There was a dreamy smile on Yuuri’s face as he watched Victor practice a spin out on the ice. He said nothing.

And then another person joined them. “So you’re the Yuuri I heard so much about.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact.

Yuuri tore his eyes away from Victor and took in the stern-looking lady standing in front of him and held out his hand.

“I don’t think we’ve met. Yuuri Katsuki,” he said coolly.

“Lilia Baranovskaya,” she responded in the same icy tone.

They shook hands as they measured each other up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Yuuri sings is [Baby I'm a Fool by Melody Gardot](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_qphknagXqA). (And I borrowed bits of the music video as well, of course.)
> 
> The outfit that Victor wears is actually inspired by a really awesome art you can see [here](http://witharthurkirkland.tumblr.com/post/168551844888/lieblingsama-hoo-boi).


	11. Lilia

Another day of practice came to an end. Mila got off the ice and lingered behind, waiting for the other female skaters to follow.

“I’m telling you, Natasha,” she said to one of them, as if continuing a conversation from before, “it’s something you have to see in person. The videos are all nothing. Even if the quality of the video is really good, it’s not the same as being there in person. Just imagine the atmosphere: you’re sitting at a table in the dark and a figure on the stage strips and dances several steps away from you!”

“What are you talking about?” Yuri asked, joining them.

“Yuuri Katsuki,” Mila explained. “I’m trying to talk Natasha into going.”

“Hmph!” Yuri turned away.

“Aw! Don’t sulk. You’ll be old enough to go eventually,” Mila tried to reassure him.

Yuri hmphed again.

This time Mila ignored him. “So what do you say, Natasha? We can invite all the girls and make it a girls’ night out!”

Natasha, a skater two years older than Mila, who’d watched all of Yuuri’s videos obsessively and was too shy to go to the club alone nodded happily.

Victor walked in on their conversation, only hearing a part of it and not understanding a single word of what had been said. “Are you going out? That’s nice. I hope you have a good time!”

“They’re going to watch your fiancé perform,” Yuri muttered in a tone that gave away just how much he wanted to join them.

“That’s great! We can all go together!” Victor exclaimed and then, remembering himself, he added, “Oh, sorry, Yuri, not you, of course.”

“It’s a _girl’s_ night out,” Mila insisted. “That means: no boys!”

“Oh.” Victor’s face fell. “I’ll sit at a different table, then.”

Yuri sniggered while Mila explained as patiently as she could that, no, he couldn’t do that.

“But he’s my fiancé!” Victor protested. “And tonight he’s performing in something I got him as a present!”

Even Mila had to concede that he had a point.

“Fine,” Mila said, “but since this is a _girls’_ night out…” She paused ominously and gave Victor a look.

“Yes?” he asked in a voice that trembled.

“You’ll have to go as a girl,” she said with a shrug.

“But they ask for your ID at the door,” Victor told her.

She laughed at this. “You’ll still be you, won’t you?”

In theory…

 

…in practice things were a _little_ different.

The bouncer at the club stared at Victor’s passport, and then at him, and then back at the passport.

Victor felt the blood rise to his cheeks. He was in a long wig, a short red dress and makeup. A _lot_ of makeup.

Mila and the rest of the team got a little overenthusiastic once they sat him down. They started with “just a little lipstick”, but before Victor could say another word he was wearing mascara, eyeshadow and blush along with the bright red lipstick.

Mila had smiled and called him cute.

Then all the girls made bets on whether or not Yuuri would recognize him. The split was roughly half and half. Victor had declared proudly that _of course_ Yuuri would recognize him. He had no doubts on the subject.

And then…

 

_The girls giggled at Victor’s words and exclaimed “aw!” while Victor opened and closed his mouth like a fish._

_The door of the change room swung open and Lilia stepped inside._

_Everyone went dead silent and all the smiles were gone in an instant._

_Victor fidgeted, trying to think of an explanation for his appearance._

_Mila stood up with an air of defiance and opened her mouth, but Lilia beat her to it._

_“How much longer do you need?” she asked. “I’ve been waiting for half an hour!”_

_“S-sorry?” Mila stammered out, the defiance knocked out of her at the sound of those words. “Waiting?”_

_“Yes. Waiting.” She looked at her watch. “The doors open in forty minutes and I still need to change.”_

_“Doors?” Mila repeated._

_Lilia gave her a stern look. “Yes, Mila,_ doors _. Is there something wrong with your brain today? Or did you suddenly decide that speaking one word at a time is a good idea?”_

_“Sorry,” Mila exclaimed. “We’re… um… ready to go I think?” She looked around the room and got several enthusiastic nods in return._

_“Good,” Lilia approved. “I can give a few of you a ride, and we can all meet up at the doors at 7.”_

_They nodded and followed her out without another word. Victor was too stunned to say anything._

_Somehow, Victor ended up getting a ride with Lilia. (Oddly enough, she didn’t comment on his appearance and called him “Victor” as if it nothing was wrong. Which, technically, it wasn’t, he tried to remind himself.) And, so, he was one of the first to see Lilia after she changed._

_A woman walked up to the car in a big fur coat and a tight black pencil dress. A diamond necklace hung around her neck. She was in a pair of stiletto heels. Victor stared up into her face, which was partially covered by her long sleek hair and his mouth dropped._

_It was Lilia._

_She got into her car and drove them to Yuuri’s club._

The bouncer gave a nod and a grunt, and Victor was allowed to go inside.

“Thank you, Misha,” Victor mumbled. He’d been at the club often enough to know the man’s name, but he had no idea if the man recognized him, since every time he greeted him he did so as if he was seeing Victor for the first time.

Misha gave another nod and Victor wondered if he’d forgotten how to speak. The calm look on the bouncer’s face remained unchanged.

_Then again_ , Victor thought, _he’s probably used to seeing all kinds of stuff._

They headed for the table nearest to the front and each of them took a seat.

“Well,” Mila said after a while, “this is… nice. I mean, here we are.”

An awkward silence followed as everyone was all too aware of Lilia’s presence.

The woman caught a waiter’s eye and he ran up to her with a tray in his hand.

“Champagne,” she said, “a bottle for the table and a glass for each of us.”

The waiter gave her the drinks menu, which had been sitting on their table, and explained very patiently that they offered several different brands of champagne.

Lilia gave the list a passive stare and then made her choice.

The waiter nodded and left to be replaced by the awkward silence once more.

“This place… um…” Mila began, “It’s um…”

“Smaller than I expected,” Lilia finished for her. Then she looked at Victor. “Tell me, does Yuuri usually go first?”

_She knows exactly what this place is and she knows exactly what he does,_ Victor realized.

He’d seen Yuuri talk to Lilia the day before. They’d stood like two fighters ready to strike, sizing each other up and trying to settle on a good opening move. He had no idea what they’d talked about, but what Yuuri did for a living must have been on the list.

For some reason he’d waited for Yuuri to tell him about their conversation, but he never did. He’d been to exhausted for a proper conversation at the time.

_Oh right, she asked me a question!_ he remembered, feeling her gaze on him. “I… uh… No, he rarely goes first.”

That evening Yuuri was first.

All the lights dimmed to a more intimate level and everyone turned to look at the stage where several bright lights fell over two big feather fans, which rose to reveal a figure lounging on the piano in the middle of the stage.

Eros sat up and slid his hands over his waist. “ _A guy what takes his time, I’ll go for any time,_ ” he told the audience as he sat up, put his hands on his knees and spread his legs. He leaned forward with a smile and sparkled.

It had cost Victor a small fortune, but it was worth it for the look on Yuuri’s face when he unpacked the box and pulled it out. And now, several weeks after Victor had given it to him, Yuuri finally got a chance to wear his New Year’s present. A body harness made of diamonds.

 And even if the joy on Yuuri’s face hadn’t been worth all that, then his performance on the stage would’ve been enough.

“ _I’m a fast movin’ guy who likes them slow. Got no use for fancy driving, want to see a guy arriving in low,_ ” Yuuri sang on, reclining again and giving an excited gasp before jumping off the piano to stand with his back to the audience. He was in a pair of heels that might have also been covered in diamonds, but maybe it was just glass. It didn’t matter – everyone else was staring elsewhere.

Victor remembered buying the harness in the store and asking the owner if it was actually comfortable to wear something that was made up of straps covered in diamonds.

 

_“I expect that this will cause some discomfort if the wearer decided it were a good idea to, say, run a marathon,” the man at the store said in the most professional tone imaginable._

_Victor stared down at all the diamonds. He knew that for the price they were asking not all of the stones were actual diamonds, but that didn’t matter. “Won’t it… chafe?” he asked softly. He did his best_ not _to think about the way it would look in between two of the most perfect buttocks in the world and failed. Any thoughts about the front merely short-circuited his brain._

_“Is your young…” the salesclerk began._

_“man,” Victor supplied automatically._

_“Thank you. Is your young man planning to…?” And here even the salesclerk gave an embarrassed cough._

_Victor raised his eyes. He was blushing at least as much as the man was. “My boyfriend is a Burlesque dancer,” he told him._

_“Ah.” And he could see that the explanation suited the salesclerk perfectly. “Well, I would like to assure you, that in this part, here,” he motioned with his hand, “we do not use diamonds, as the wearer would merely hurt themselves. We have perfected a technology that…”_

_And he gave Victor a lecture on materials for all of twenty minutes._

 

“ _I’d be satisfied, electrified to know a guy what takes his time,_ ” Eros crossed the stage with several confident strides, swinging his hips playfully. He winked at Victor and blew him a kiss.

Mila elbowed Victor and whispered, “looks like he recognized you.”

Eros didn’t stay on the stage for long: suddenly he was there, in front of Victor, dangerously and tantalizingly close. Victor could see sweat trickling down the boy’s skin. “ _A hurry-up affair, I always give the air_.”

Eros reclined on the table and crossed his legs. “ _Wouldn’t give any rushing gent a smile._ ” And then he was up on his feet next to Victor, tapping his fingers on his head as he sang on, “ _I would go for any single who would condescend to linger awhile._ ” On the last word he pulled his hand away and swung his hips towards Victor’s head playfully.

“ _What a lullaby would be supplied to have a guy who takes his time._ ” Eros dropped back onto the table and pulled his legs up to him. When he kicked one leg out a mere inch from Victor’s face, only to place his toe under Victor’s chin, Victor suddenly found it hard to breathe. Would he pass out now?

Eros sat up and leaned forward with a cherry in his hand.

Victor didn’t even wonder where it had come from. Here was Yuuri and he was about to place a cherry in his mouth. Victor reached forward, but Yuuri beat him to it, catching it with his own mouth, a few measly centimeters away from Victor’s face.

He grinned and rose to his feet and danced on the table.

Eros turned to look at Lilia.

Victor couldn’t take his eyes off his fiancé to see what her reaction to him was.

But Eros danced as if she was just another customer. “ _A guy what takes his time, I’d go for any time_ ,” he went on, stepping back onto the stage with a swing of his hips. “ _A hasty job really spoils a master’s touch._ ” As he lowered himself he slid both hands over his hips.

He straightened up and the top part of his body harness flew off his body and vanished into the darkness to the astonished gasps from the crowd.

Yuuri put his hands over his chest and turned around as he continued singing. “ _I don’t like a big commotion, I’m a demon for slow motion._ ” He kept going, walking down the stage, walking around the musicians and then – a gasp! – and, just as he turned his back, the bottom part of his harness was gone too!

For a second there was a silence and then the audience really screamed.

Two dancers stepped forward with the giant feather fans and Eros took them, turning around and hiding behind them right away.

Victor’s face was burning. He held it in his hands. Yuuri was completely naked up there!

Something on his hand caught the light and Victor saw that Yuuri was still wearing his ring. He insisted on keeping it on even when performing. Victor wondered if he would ever got in trouble for that.

Female dancers all in suits, as if to make Eros’s nakedness stand out even more, circled around him.

There was a knowing smile on Eros’s face as he kicked his legs up into the air. “ _I can spot an amateur, appreciate a connoisseur in trade who would qualify, no alibi, to be the guy who takes his time._ ”

He stopped and rolled his bare shoulders with a wink.

“More!” the audience pleaded.

The smile faded and Eros licked his lips with an expression that made Victor break out into a cold sweat. Eros turned around and walked away, his heels clicking on the floor.

Victor’s hand was over his heart. It was pounding really fast.

“Well!” Mila said.

Everyone at their table looked at Lilia. She sipped her champagne as nonchalantly as possible.

Victor was having trouble breathing.

Mila shifted her chair closer. “Are you okay?” she asked with a worried look on her face.

He nodded weakly.

“Do you need to step outside for a bit?” she offered.

“No, no!” Victor protested. “Yuuri will be back soon!”

She didn’t argue with that.

The next number began and Mila’s attention was back on the stage while Victor studied his bouquet for Yuuri thoughtfully.

He felt someone’s eyes on him and looked up to find Yuuri standing over him.

Yuuri was in the diamond body harness again. He’d thrown a white fur coat on, but it had slid off his bare shoulders, as if to give the world a chance to admire them.

“Hello, beautiful,” Yuuri whispered, sliding a finger down Victor’s nose. “I don’t believe we’ve met. What’s your name?”

“V-Victor,” he stammered out and felt like an idiot.

“Victoria? What a wonderful name!” Yuuri slipped into his lap and fiddled with the hair of his wig. “My fiancé isn’t here today and I feel a little lonely,” he said, giving Victor a wink.

Victor’s head was spinning. “But, Y –”

Yuuri leaned really close. “Let’s make him jealous,” he whispered. “Kiss me.”

Was Yuuri playing along? Or did he really think that…

Victor was kissing Yuuri before he could finish that thought and then his brain wasn’t capable of any thought at all.

Yuuri pulled away and smiled. “I love you,” he whispered into Victor’s ear. “This look really suits you, darling.” He took one of Victor’s hands and slid it over the harness. “What do you think?” he breathed into Victor’s ear. “Does this look suit me?”

“O-of course it does!” he stammered out. “There is no one it would suit more!”

This earned him a kiss on the cheek. “I wasn’t wearing it on stage,” he confided in Victor. “I ordered a cheap copy, because I didn’t want to throw this one around.” He held Victor’s hand to his heart. “Was that wrong?” he asked softly.

“It’s your present,” Victor said. “You can do whatever you want with it.”

The performance on the stage ended and Yuuri stood up.

Lilia lowered her glass onto the table.

“Well?” Yuuri asked her. “What did you think?”

She gave a shrug. “You didn’t actually dance,” she said.

Yuuri climbed onto an empty chair and then onto the table. The stage lights all turned to him and he let the coat fall from his back and the band struck up a tune.

He didn’t sing this time, but merely danced.

Victor wasn’t sure if it was the dance or the view he had of Yuuri that made him blush more.

When Yuuri finished he raised his arms triumphantly and the audience applauded.

Victor rose to his feet and held out a hand to help him get down.

“Well?” Yuuri asked Lilia.

“On a scale of 1 to 10,” she said, “I’d give you a 9, maybe even an 8.5.”

The Russian figure skating team gasped. Mila started to protest. The others all insisted that Yuuri was the best they’d ever seen.

Yuuri stared at Lilia, the expression on his face impossible to read.

The figure skaters all panicked. Victor saw Mila throw frantic looks around her, as if looking for some distraction. He himself held Yuuri’s hand, waiting for his cue to jump in and defend him.

“Look!” Mila exclaimed. “Is that… Georgi? It is! And the rest of the boys too!”

The skaters turned to look. Even Victor’s eyes flickered to them briefly.

Yuuri’s eyes remained fixed on Lilia and she stared back at him.

Victor thought he saw a familiar face and turned his head to check. “Even Yakov is here!”

“I noticed them earlier,” Yuuri admitted. “They got here when you did.”

He stepped closer and Victor wondered what he should do.

“Will you take me as your student?” Yuuri asked and suddenly all the hostility was gone. It was as if a new person was standing there, quite different from the one who’d just danced on the table. There was even a touch of humility in his tone.

Lilia considered his question. “I will,” she said at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri sings [A Guy What Takes his Time by Christina Aguilera](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hsso6fyvxcE) (and dances something very similar). He wears something like [this](https://twitter.com/jaynilovechild/status/929445982038888448).


	12. A Contract

The world of ballet was in a stir, the likes of which it hadn’t seen in a while. Not only were the ballet dancers passing rumours around, but the figure skating world was dragged in as well as that of strippers, burlesque dancers and even the dancers in cabaret clubs. Professional dancers were starting to get curious about it as well.

And, as is usually the case with rumours passed between big groups of people, the story got wilder with each retelling.

“Did you hear they’re hiring strippers as ballet dancers now?” someone told someone else.

“You’re kidding? Are they that desperate to sell tickets, or do they want to give a bunch of old people heart attacks?”

“They’re not _all_ old!”

Two strippers on the outskirts of St. Petersburg met up for a drink and one told the other the news. “Word on the street is: Eros is dancing Swan Lake.”

“As if I’ll believe that! Anyway, Mariinsky Theatre will burn down, if they dared to do it!” the other stripper argued. “Besides, Eros has too much good sense to dance ballet!”

“Have you ever seen him perform?”

“Oh yes! Best five minutes of my damn life!”

“To Eros!” one of them toasted.

“To Eros!” the other echoed.

 

For the fourth time in a row, Yuuri was coming home late in the evening, too exhausted to even speak. He’d taken a week off for what he called training, but it had turned out to be more gruelling than work.

As before, Victor sat him down in the kitchen and poured him a bowl of borsht.

Yuuri stared at it, as if unable to understand what it was.

With a smile, Victor sat down and fed him the soup, one hand under the spoon, just in case some contents dripped out.

Yuuri didn’t argue: he merely accepted each spoonful hungrily.

“You shouldn’t work yourself too hard,” Victor whispered and pulled a hand through Yuuri’s hair and then down over his face, letting it linger on the boy’s cheek.

“I want a bath…”  Yuuri whispered, “but I can’t…”

Victor put the bowl in the sink and left the kitchen to run the water for Yuuri’s bath. He returned to pick Yuuri up and carry him out in his arms.

“You really don’t need to…” Yuuri protested, but Victor didn’t listen. He sat his fiancé down on the edge of the bathtub and undressed him.

Yuuri smiled. “I’m sorry I’m no use in this state.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Victor reassured him.

He didn’t make any kind of comment once he managed to pull all of Yuuri’s clothes off. He merely lay Yuuri down in the water and sat down by his side.

Yuuri reclined in the bathtub with his eyes closed and a tired groan.

“I have an idea,” Victor whispered. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

Yuuri opened his eyes and stared at Victor who’d put his hands on the bathtub and rested his head on them with a look of pure adoration in his eyes. “Sure. Why not?” What face was he making now? Did he have the same look on his own face? He definitely hoped so!

Victor went off to get a bottle of white wine and actually poured them a glass each.

“You’re not going to fill the bathroom with candles, are you?” Yuuri joked as he accepted his glass.

“Do you want me to?”

Yuuri laughed. “You’ll be covering me with rose petals next…”

“I can do that too,” Victor offered.

“Kiss me,” Yuuri whispered and closed his eyes, handing the glass back after he’d downed its contents.

Victor leaned towards him.

They clung on to each other after that, not caring that Victor’s shirt was getting wet.

“I want to go somewhere far away with you,” Yuuri whispered into his ear. “Someplace where it will be just us and no one else…”

Victor never got to hear what else Yuuri wanted, because Yuuri dozed off halfway through his sentence.

 

The club bubbled with anticipation. After a week-long absence Eros was finally back. What would he do this time? How would his routines be different?

Victor sat at the very front as always. By pure coincidence, he managed to make out the conversation at the next table over the din in the club.

“I think you’ll find the solution to your problem here,” a man with a voice that had millions behind it said.

“I hope so!” a second man exclaimed in a strong French accent. “I’m at the end of my rope. I need something new, something the audience had never seen before. Well, we all know how impossible that is, so I’m willing to settle for something very few people have seen before.”

The first man chuckled at these words.

The lights dimmed and the audience applauded politely.

The club owner teased the audience this time: every other dancer set to perform that night went on the stage before it was finally Eros’s turn.

And then a curtain rose to show a figure bathing in the stage lights as it reclined on a little couch. He was in a pink corset this time with what was not so much a skirt, but something closer to a big feathery tail and a pair of heels to match.

“ _The dress is Chanel, the shoes YSL_ ,” he sang as he rolled over playfully and sat up. He waved at the crowd as they screamed in appreciation.

“We missed you!” someone yelled over the music.

He blew the person a kiss as he kept singing.

The lights shifted around him, turning him into a silhouette for just a moment. “ _They all say “Darling, what did you do for those pearls?”_ ” He raised his hand to his mouth and let out an indignant gasp. “ _What?! I am a good boy!_ ”

He jumped off the couch and pulled on a big rope and the curtain behind him parted to reveal steps covered in a deep red carpet. He climbed the steps as he sang, his back to the audience and shook his whole body playfully.

Once he reached the top step, he sat down and winked at the audience.

“ _You know I have found, the word’s gone around_ ,” he dropped onto his back and kicked a pair of legs up into the air that people would go to war for, “ _they all say my feet never_ do _touch the ground._ ” He sat up and gave a second indignant gasp. “ _What?! I am a good boy!_ ”

He got up and ran around the stage. Doors opened on different sides of it and turned at his touch. He moved with a lightness in his step, as if he was made of nothing more than air.

Victor remembered the worn out figure and smiled proudly. Here was Yuuri giving his absolute best and no one could ever hope to do better!

“ _I am a good boy!_ ” Yuuri winked at the audience over his shoulder, twirled around and pulled his skirt off only to reveal something like a big pink rose on his backside.

He climbed the stairs again and suddenly there was a pole there, where there hadn’t been a pole before.

_Surely, Lilia didn’t teach him this!_ Victor thought.

He’d heard whispers about a graceful ballet dancer with a soft look on his face that was apparently the same person as the seductive figure on the stage. Victor was starting to get letters from people willing to take his place in Yuuri’s life, as well as warnings that if he wasn’t careful, he would lose what he had.

But Victor didn’t believe any of them.

Eros slid his back up and down against the pole, made one twirl around it with his legs raised in the air and came down only to be joined by a group of dancers.

He gave an ecstatic gasp that startled Victor and in the next instant he was there – at Victor’s side.

“ _I am a good boy!_ ” Eros repeated and gave another gasp as he dropped onto Victor’s lap and put his arms around him to catch him in a kiss.

The music ended and the audience screamed and applauded.

Still Yuuri wasn’t letting go. “Am I good boy?” he whispered into Victor’s ear.

“Of course you are!” Victor whispered back, his whole body on fire.

Eros was back on the stage, blowing kisses at the audience and waving goodbye.

The curtains dropped. The show was over.

 

Victor knocked and waited for permission to enter before joining Yuuri in his change room.

He put the bouquet down by the mirror and kissed Yuuri’s hand. “You were amazing tonight!” he exclaimed and got a smile in return. Then he threw a quick look at the door and added. “There are… two men here to see you. I don’t know what they want. Should I tell them to come in, or ask them to leave?”

Yuuri got up, put his dressing gown on and wrapped it tightly around his body. “Ask them in,” he said.

Giving Yuuri’s hand another kiss, Victor stepped out of the room to ask the two men inside.

They were both very well-dressed in tailored suits and with their hats in their hands. They greeted Yuuri politely and introduced themselves.

“I’m the art director of the Moulin Rouge,” said the man with the French accent.

The second man, who didn’t just look, but also sounded like he owned a lot of money, didn’t mention his name, nor his profession.

The art director threw a quick look at Victor, who’d taken the spot behind Yuuri’s chair, and began.

“Forgive me, Eros, but I didn’t realize you were, in fact, a man.”

Yuuri suppressed a laugh. “And what can I do for you, monsieur? Normally I would invite you to speak French, but I’m afraid Victor doesn’t understand it very well.”

The art director threw a look at his companion. “I did say something new, did I not?” he asked with a smile. “I am here to make you an offer. One of our principal dancers at the Moulin Rouge announced recently she’s going to retire soon, catching us all by surprise. And so I find myself looking for a replacement in rather a hurry.” He explained about several dancers retiring all at once, and how normally they’d be well-prepared, but, as luck would have it, and so on, and so forth.

Yuuri listened without a word.

“And, so, I find myself here, looking for new talent,” the man concluded. He wasn’t very good at getting to the point quickly. “Normally the talent comes to us and so I’m not used to seeking it out myself.”

Yuuri nodded and waited.

“We’d like you to become one of our principal dancers,” the art director finally said. “You have the qualifications and the right figure.” Victor was a little shocked by this. “I’m certain that we can pay you double your current salary. We’d help you with the move too, of course. Paperwork and so on…” he paused. “…bit tricky with Russia, though.”

Yuuri reclined in his chair. “I have Swiss citizenship,” he said coolly.

“Ah! Well! Excellent!” The art director beamed. “St. Petersburg is a beautiful city, but there is no city in the world like Paris! Imagine all of it at your feet!”

Yuuri was silent for a time and Victor held his breath, waiting for his decision. He’d been fascinated with France since he was small, having grown up with books by French authors. For him, living in Paris was like a dream come true, but that didn’t matter, because he knew that no matter where Yuuri went, he would follow.

“I have a fiancé,” Yuuri said at last.

“We can help him move as well,” the art director said.

Yuuri reached out and took Victor’s hand. “My fiancé is Victor Nikiforov, the figure skating legend. It would be a big inconvenience to him to leave his home country, his family and his coach.” He turned in his seat and looked up at Victor. “What do you say to that, Viten’ka?”

Victor, who’d never been called Viten’ka by his fiancé before now, was prepared to say anything in that moment. He gave a weak nod instead.

Yuuri smiled warmly and kissed Victor’s hand, keeping his eyes on his face.

“Then a contract, perhaps?” the art director offered. “You can work at the Moulin Rouge for half a year and then we decide if we want to extend the contract or not.”

This time Yuuri rose to his feet. “I’m very flattered by your offer,” he began and Victor braced himself to hear Yuuri turn them down. “Would you gentlemen mind giving Victor and me a few minutes to discuss it?”

“Of course.” They bowed and stepped out of the room.

“Yuuri –” Victor began, but Yuuri turned around and grabbed his hands.

“Moulin Rouge! Did you hear that? _Oh my god_! The Moulin Rouge!” he exclaimed almost jumping in excitement.

Victor’s face broke into a smile. He watched the sparkle in Yuuri’s eyes and leaned forward and caught him in a kiss before he could stop himself.

Yuuri responded. His hands were on Victor’s back as he let his enthusiasm carry him away.

“You deserve it all and more,” Victor whispered, pulling away and pressing his forehead against Yuuri’s.

“But what about your career, Victor?” Yuuri whispered back.

“That’s not a problem,” Victor reassured him. “I have contacts. I’ll find somewhere to train in Paris. They must have ice rinks!” He laughed.

“But you’ll need a new coach.”

“I’ll find someone.” He leaned in to press his lips against Yuuri’s cheek. “It will be like a honeymoon!”

“Except you’ll barely see me,” Yuuri whispered back. “And you have competitions to prepare for!”

“Will you marry me, Yuuri?”

They laughed and exchanged more kisses before Yuuri finally responded. “When?”

“Right now!” He knew he was getting carried away. He knew there were important people waiting for them, but he refused to let Yuuri go just yet. “Call me Viten’ka again,” he whispered as he buried his face in Yuuri’s neck.

 

And that was how in the beginning of February when Yuuri woke up it was in their new apartment in Paris. The view from their window wasn’t breathtaking or inspiring. Despite what the movies claimed, they couldn’t see the Eiffel Tower from their window, or even from any of the other windows in their apartment building. They weren’t in the best part of town and the apartment was an old one that was close to falling apart, but none of that mattered.

Yuuri rolled over under the blanket and clung on to Victor.

They’d finally set on a date for the wedding and Yuuri found himself urging time on, impatient for May to come, while Victor spent several hours every day, researching the best venues.

Yuuri’s eyes opened and he slid a finger over Victor’s skin. Was he really going to finally marry Victor? It felt too unreal.

_I want to marry you over and over again,_ Yuuri thought, closing his eyes again. _And I want to make you the happiest man who ever lived._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter Yuuri sings [But I am a Good Girl by Christina Aguilera](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YDPR5EoYqOs).
> 
> I am a hopeless romantic. I can’t help it. (Cue more ridiculous scenarios.) Also: I’m going to participate in Victuuri Week for this AU. The first prompt is a Historical AU, which I will post as a separate fic and link in the next chapter, but the rest of the prompts will be posted as chapters of this fic.


	13. Eros at the Moulin Rouge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Day Two of Victuuri Week. The prompt is: Celebrity AU. 
> 
> If you missed Day One, it's the Historical AU of Comes Love, which got its own fic just in case I get the time to continue it and you can read it [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13534029). And you absolutely have to see [this lovely commission](https://sidhedraws.tumblr.com/post/170348516905/lovely-commission-i-did-to-witharthurkirkland) that I got that fits that AU (and please give the artist some love).

Paris in the spring was heart-achingly beautiful. The city was covered, no, _drowning_ , in flowers. Not only were there blooming bushes of flowers, but there were pots of flowers everywhere the eye looked. They filled the air with their sweet scent, turning people’s heads, making them do foolish things. It got even worse in the nighttime.

Victor strolled through the city, wishing he could share all this with Yuuri.

Love-struck couples walked past him, stopped and exchanged kisses right there, not caring who was watching or what anyone thought of their actions.

And all of Paris was covered in advertisements for the Moulin Rouge. Yuuri’s face gave the city one of his seductive smiles. _For the first time at the Moulin Rouge!_ the posters all read, lights flashing around their perimeters. _Come see the beautiful Eros perform!_

After the incredible success of Yuuri’s music video and all the publicity that followed, the administration of the Moulin Rouge themselves invited him to perform on their stage. They called it a trial run. Yuuri called it a temporary arrangement. He nearly got in trouble with his club in St. Petersburg.

It wasn’t easy on either of them. While Victor struggled to find a coach, Yuuri dealt with settling in with a different group of dancers.

They didn’t accept him at all at first. The performers had a clear division in what they considered to be men’s and women’s roles. According to Yuuri, it wasn’t until he donned one of their costumes and showed what he could do that some of them exchanged a look that said “why haven’t we considered this before?”

The dancers were a very close group and so Yuuri spent his free time trying to befriend them.

“Once they accept me, I’ll introduce you,” Yuuri had promised.

So he was off practicing and winning over the dancers while Victor waited impatiently for the evening to come.

He stepped onto a bridge over the Seine and watched a boat full of tourists go by. He’d been a tourist here like them once. Now Paris was his home, even if just temporarily. It still felt too surreal.

A quick glance at his watch told him that he had another three hours to kill, which gave him more than enough time to find a gift for Yuuri.

 

Evening came at last and found Victor seated near the front at the Moulin Rouge. There was no special seat reserved for him anymore, no preferential treatment like the kind he’d gotten at Yuuri’s two previous clubs.

The people around him waited excitedly for the show to start. He heard them whisper something about Eros, but didn’t understand a word.

His heart beat faster.

He’d spent a rare morning with Yuuri, gazing at him lovingly over breakfast. He remembered Yuuri’s big shapeless sweater and how it would keep sliding off one shoulder.

The lights dimmed just as Victor wondered what to make for breakfast the next day.

The curtains rose and the dancers all spilled out onto the stage. They were all in identical blue, white and red dresses. Anyone else would’ve have a hard time distinguishing them from each other, but Victor spotted Yuuri right away.

A dozen or so legs rose up into the air at the same time as the orchestra played the Cancan. There were male dancers out on the stage now, in pants and jackets, but Victor ignored them in favour of a very beautiful pair of legs. He promised himself to spend the whole night worshipping those legs.

Victor kept his eye on Yuuri until the number ended and all the dancers left the stage, including him.

Two dances later he was back. This time he was in feathers and something reminiscent of the diamond body harness Victor had bought for him.

Would anyone notice that one of the dancers was, in fact, a man?

Yes, as it turned out, they _would_.

Whispers rippled through the crowd as Yuuri stepped forward and the number suddenly centred on him.

This was very different from his usual routines and Victor wondered what it was like for Yuuri. Even the way he flirted with the audience was different. He _did_ still flirt, however.

And his eyes shone. In fact, his whole body seemed to glow.

He was enjoying every minute.

 _This is where you really belong,_ Victor thought.

He hadn’t told Yuuri that he’d had no luck with a new coach. He hadn’t mentioned training alone or how empty it felt.

Yuuri belonged _here_ , not in the club in St. Petersburg where half the dancers didn’t really know what they were doing and the audience didn’t really _care_ what they were doing, as long as they stripped.

Maybe it was time for him to retire. He could find them a nicer apartment and they could live here, where Yuuri found his place at last.

Victor sighed. He couldn’t enjoy the rest of the performance after a thought like that. Not even in the end when Yuuri came out in a sleeveless red dress that barely covered him at the front and trailed behind him.

He danced amid two dozen topless dancers who went around him in circles, twirling, raising their legs and smiling at the audience. They were all in body harnesses that were nothing more than a few glittering straps. Every leg, every arm moved at the same time, following the music. It was an incredible feat of choreography and skill. Victor was really impressed.

They froze on the final note and not a single spot on the stage was empty. In the middle – Yuuri stood with his arms raised and a smile on his face and all around him – circles upon circles of dancers grinned at the audience.

Victor joined in the enthusiastic applause, clapping long after the curtains closed.

Yes, Yuuri was really happy here and Victor had to persuade him to stay.

 

The dancers gathered in the dressing room afterwards, chatting excitedly about people they’d spotted in the audience. They were nothing at all like the dancers at Yuuri’s club. The boy was used to being the only one on the stage with a little bit of backup from five or six dancers for part of his number while he stripped, danced and sang. This time he was one of two dozen dancers out on the stage with a costume specific to each number that he wasn’t supposed to take off, except when he changed into the next one, and the orchestra was the only source of music throughout.

Yuuri stood apart from all of them now, still in his big red dress and opera length red gloves. They’d considered giving him his own dressing room, but all of the female dancers protested that they didn’t mind sharing with him.

“Yuuri!” one of the dancers exclaimed, walking into the change room and stopping to laugh. “There’s a handsome young man standing outside. He says he wants to see you.”

“That must be Victor!” Yuuri exclaimed.

“Your boyfriend?” someone in the room asked.

“My fiancé,” he corrected. “I’ll go talk to him,” Yuuri said, but everyone protested that he should let Victor in.

The dancer opened the door before Yuuri could do it and beckoned Victor inside.

Every performer in the room turned to watch a handsome tall man walk in with an enormous bouquet of roses in his arms, which he handed to Yuuri.

The boy accepted the bouquet with a big smile.

Victor handed him a little present wrapped neatly and tied with a ribbon. “To celebrate your debut in Paris,” he exclaimed.

“You always spoil me,” Yuuri said and leaned forward for a kiss.

But Victor swept him up into his arms with a laugh. Yuuri wrapped his arms around Victor’s neck, exclaiming in surprise and then he, too, burst out laughing. There was a faint blush on his cheeks.

Victor planted a brief kiss on his lips and set him down. “I’ll wait for you to change,” he promised and left the room.

Yuuri watched him go with a hand over his heart.

“Well, I didn’t think that anything flustered Eros, but it turns out that I was wrong!” one of the dancers exclaimed.

“I think I’m allowed to get flustered over my fiancé,” Yuuri protested. He pulled his headpiece off. “I’m very lucky to have him.” His gloves came off next. “He spoils me and,” there was a big smile on his face as he said the next words, “not only is he amazing in bed, but he’s got a heart of gold.” He raised one foot and then the other to remove his shoes. Finally he unzipped the dress and let it fall to the ground. He put his arms on his hips and regarded his reflection critically. “And he’s all mine,” he finished.

 

Yuuri lay on his back in their bed, wearing nothing but a pair of heels, which Victor was pulling slowly off his feet. He leaned down and kissed Yuuri’s foot as he tossed each shoe aside.

Victor’s kisses went from Yuuri’s foot up to his knee where he stopped to shift closer.

Yuuri lay still and waited for more.

Was it Yuuri’s imagination or was Victor moving slower now that he was on his thigh? Yuuri let out a sigh, willing Victor to keep going slowly.

A little closer and he reached a sensitive spot, getting a moan out of Yuuri this time. Victor gave the spot a second kiss and Yuuri reached out to pull his fingers through Victor’s hair.

Victor was right between Yuuri’s legs now. He sat up with a smile and raised Yuuri’s right hand to his lips. “Will you have sex with me?”

“I’m all yours, Viten’ka.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter (and, in fact, the whole idea of Yuuri working at the Moulin Rouge) was inspired by [this amazing art](http://witharthurkirkland.tumblr.com/post/169826432808/sasaking86-twitter-follow). And if you’ve seen my post before, you’ve also seen my first draft of this chapter. I also realized while writing this chapter just how much I need the image of Yuuri dancing the Cancan *sigh*.


	14. These Boots are Made for Walking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Day Three of Victuuri Week. The prompt is: Longing.

He had a big day tomorrow. He needed to get some rest. He’d already exhausted himself with practice, so why was he going through his photos of Yuuri?

Because after several days in Paris he had to cave in to the inevitable and return home.

There was no coach willing to take him on and without someone Victor wasted days away doing nothing. He walked through the little streets in Paris, discovering little places tucked away from the public eye. He wandered through the Louvre and stood under the Eiffel tower.

Guilt pushed him back home to St. Petersburg.

And, so, he took a flight a week early to get at least some time to train with Yakov.

His coach said nothing about it all and, somehow, that was worse than if he’d given Victor a long lecture. But worst still was that he didn’t dare tell Yuuri the whole truth.

 

_Yuuri beamed after another successful evening. He hummed the music as he unzipped his coat and hung it in their closet._

_Victor watched him, committing every detail to memory, telling himself just how happy Yuuri was in that moment._

_“Why are you staring at me like that?” Yuuri asked, turning to face Victor._

_They’d clung on to each other the whole way home and Yuuri stepped towards Victor, clearly misunderstanding the expression on his face. There was just the hint of fear in Yuuri’s eyes, ready to fully manifest itself at the slightest provocation._

_Victor swallowed. “I’m going back to check on Makkachin,” he said at last._

_Yuuri’s face fell. He turned away and walked into their living room. But it wasn’t Eros’s confident stride, or Yuuri’s excited and happy one: it was the walk of a person carrying a heavy load._

_“I’m sorry,” Victor said and he was. He was sorry for ruining Yuuri’s evening. He was sorry for the lie._

_“You don’t need to apologize,” Yuuri said and Victor wanted to argue that, yes, he did, but still he said nothing._

_He opened his mouth, willing the words to come, and when that didn’t work, he caught Yuuri from behind and kissed his neck. “I’ll be back soon, you’ll see. Just give me two weeks.”_

 

Now, with the European Championship a few hours away, he sat in his hotel room and looked at photos. They’d agreed that he’d call Yuuri that evening and he still had another fifteen minutes before the appointed time. So what else could he do other than look at photos?

He wasn’t looking at the seductive ones, or the ones where Yuuri was completely naked. He was going over the ones with the two of them together. Together and happy.

He sighed. “I love you, Yuuri,” he whispered to one of the photos.

It didn’t reply.

The next photo showed Yuuri lying on his back, legs kicking up into the air. All he had on was a pair of tall black boots.

 

_There were five dancers in body suits on the stage when the music started to play._

_Slowly Yuuri walked out to join them. He was in a glittery black sweater, a pair of fishnet tights and tall black boots._

_“_ You keep saying you got something for me _,” he sang, “_ something you call love, but confess – you’ve been a’messin’ where you shouldn’t ‘ve been a’messin’ and now someone else is getting all your best _.”_

_This time he didn’t do much of a dance. The sweater slid off one shoulder and he shook both shoulders with a smile. The other dancers moved around him, but no one was really paying them any attention._

_Everyone waited for the moment the routine would change. This was Eros. He wouldn’t settle for something so simple!_

_And just as the song seemed to be over, there it was:_

_“_ Are you ready boots? Start walking! _”_

_He raised his arms and pulled the sweater off._

_Suddenly there was Eros on the stage with ruffled hair, in a thong, a pair of fishnet tights and black boots that just reached his thighs._

_Victor’s mouth dropped open._

_Dancers dropped to the ground in front of Eros, lying down onto their backs, one after the next and Eros stepped over them, walking towards the audience._

_Victor almost screamed._

_He was so shocked that he wasn’t even aware of how it ended or even how they both made it home._

_Next thing he knew, there was Yuuri putting his arms around him and gazing into his eyes. “Is something wrong?” he asked._

_“I… uh…” Victor blushed deeper. “I want… After that song, I realized that I want…” He put his hands over his face and the words that followed came out muffled. “I want you to step on me.”_

_Yuuri pulled his hands out of the way and smiled. “I think I can manage that. If you’ll let me change first…”_

_Victor didn’t ask why Yuuri needed to change. He merely nodded dumbly, waiting for Yuuri to return._

_Despite the request, despite all his months watching Yuuri perform, Victor still wasn’t ready for the sight of Yuuri when he came back._

_The performer stood in the doorway of Victor’s room, one hand resting on the doorframe and the other – on his waist. He was in the diamond harness again and giving Victor a smile._

_Victor’s mouth dropped open. He took in the sight of Yuuri’s heels and the stockings that only went up to his thighs._

_With slow, confident strides Yuuri walked up to him and closed his mouth with his hand. He took a hold of Victor’s tie and pulled him gently towards the bedroom._

_Once they were both inside Victor remembered what he need to do next. He dropped to his knees, raised Yuuri’s right foot and kissed it before lying down on his back on the floor._

_Yuuri rested a foot over his stomach and slid the toe in a slow circle. The circle complete, he moved the toe towards Victor’s chest. His foot went over and onto the floor on the other side of Victor and soon Yuuri was standing with Victor lying down between his feet._

_Yuuri unclasped the harness and lowered it onto the floor, piece by piece until all of it was removed. He crouched down to place the last piece on the floor and smiled at Victor._

_“I think this is better,” he said. He straightened up. “What do you think?”_

_Victor was barely breathing, so all he could do was nod weakly as Yuuri’s toe slid over him again._

_Yuuri didn’t stand over Victor for long, however. He dropped to his knees, one resting on either side of Victor, his hands on Victor’s chest. He slid them under Victor’s jacket with a sly grin._

_He could feel Yuuri’s fingers through his shirt and it was making it hard to breathe._

_Yuuri reached out and caught Victor’s tie with his teeth, dropping at the same time to sit on top of him._

_“C-can you move a little?” Victor gasped out. “I’m… It’s hard to…” He blushed deeply, unable to finish what he was saying._

_Yuuri released Victor’s tie and leaned closer to rub his nose right behind Victor’s ear. “I enjoy feeling your reactions. It’s really flattering.”_

_“M-maybe we should move to the bed?” Victor suggested._

_Each of Yuuri’s touches, each kiss was electrifying him. He was shaking now._

_“Victor…” Yuuri whispered as he pulled away. His hands slid over Victor’s body towards his stomach, only to stop at the top of his pants. “Will you take it slow tonight?” he breathed out._

_“Yes…”_

_“Thank you,” Yuuri unzipped Victor’s pants and then helped him up and out of his clothes._

_It was Yuuri’s turn to get excited and gasp after that as Victor kept his promise. And afterwards, when Yuuri clung on to Victor in his sleep he could feel the performer’s heels press lightly against his legs…_

Victor was jolted out of this memory by the sound of his phone ringing. “Ah!”

He was supposed to call Yuuri! But it seemed that the boy had beaten him to it.

“Y-Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed as he answered the call.

“You sound very flustered. Did I call at a bad time?” Yuuri asked. There was more sadness than teasing in his voice and it broke Victor’s heart to hear it.

“I was just thinking about you,” Victor admitted. “Can we switch to a video call, please?”

Yuuri’s face appeared on the screen. He looked exhausted. “I miss you,” he said.

Every part of Victor ached in response. “Me too.”

“I wish you were here right now,” Yuuri went on. “I keep dreaming about you, but it only makes it harder to be apart.”

Victor blushed. “I dream about you too.”

“I was thinking yesterday about our first days together,” Yuuri told him with a sad smile. “That time we went grocery shopping, do you remember that?”

“Yes, of course!” Victor said, all memories of high-heeled Yuuri temporarily forgotten. “When I come back, we can go again. Every day, if you like. I’ll find us new recipes to try out.”

“Thank you.” Yuuri looked ready to cry.

“What’s wrong?” Victor asked, his heart trembling. “Did someone upset you? Are they treating you well? Did you get my roses?”

Yuuri tried to smile. Victor could see that he was forcing himself to smile. “Yes, I did. They were wonderful, as always.”

“What happened, Yuuri?”

“Nothing. I just… I just need a hug from you right now, you know? My head’s full of bad memories again.” He sighed. “It sounds so silly when I say it like this.”

“It’s not silly at all!” Victor protested. “It’s hard. I know it is! But it’s only two more days and…” He tried to think of something better to say. Then he raised the phone and put his arms around it. “I’m hugging you as tight as I can.”

Yuuri closed his eyes. “And I’m clinging on so tightly it hurts,” he whispered back.

For a while neither of them said anything.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri said after a long pause. “You’re competing tomorrow. I should be cheering you on, not upsetting you like this.”

“You don’t need to apologize!” Victor protested. “You’re more important to me than all the gold medals in the world!”

“Thank you.”

“I love you, Yuuri.”

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri sings [These Boots are Made for Walking by Nancy Sinatra](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SbyAZQ45uww).
> 
> This ficlet was mostly inspired by [the first picture in this post](http://runesque.tumblr.com/post/157809949244/well-the-ending-turned-out-more-mushy-than-id).


	15. Come on Fill your Cup Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Day Four of Victuuri Week. This is a day that is free for all.

Victor returned to Paris, feeling defeated. Yes, he was about to see Yuuri, but for the past few weeks he felt as if he was carrying a heavy weight that he couldn’t let go and which only got heavier as time went by.

Was Yuuri disappointed in him? Victor had broken his winning streak. He knew Yuuri had watched him compete, but they didn’t talk about his skating at all, as if leaving that conversation for later. What would Yuuri say now?

 

Yuuri waited for Victor with a bouquet of flowers. His heart beat faster each time the door in the waiting area opened and a new arrival walked out.

It was his fault Victor didn’t win gold at the European Championship. He cursed himself for being selfish, for spending too much time away from Victor and not giving him enough attention. He should’ve been there. He should’ve made sure Victor got a new coach.

And then Victor walked out at last.

Yuuri ran. It didn’t matter that other people could see them or what they would think. There was Victor and Yuuri wanted to be with him as quickly as possible. He almost dropped the flowers when he reached Victor, but Victor caught him, flowers and all, sweeping Yuuri into his arms and pulling him close.

They stood, holding on to each other and Yuuri waited for Victor to say something. For some reason, he was suddenly very sure that Victor would cry.

But Victor was silent.

“Let’s go home,” Yuuri finally said. “I asked a friend to give us a ride back.”

Victor merely nodded. He didn’t even break his silence while in the car.

Yuuri clung on to him, watching his face carefully. Victor had a defeated air about him: his shoulders were hunched and his head was lowered. His silence was only making it worse.

Unable to stare into that face any longer, Yuuri buried his face in Victor’s shoulder. “Oh, Victor. Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t find a coach?”

“I…”

“I could’ve found someone for you. I still can.” He pulled his face away and gave Victor a determined look. “And I will.”

“I’m going to retire from figure skating,” Victor said and the words dropped on Yuuri like a ton of bricks.

He stared at Victor in mute shock.

“That’s what I decided,” Victor added and looked away.

Yuuri took one of Victor’s hands and held it to his face. He couldn’t hold his tears back any longer. “You… why are you talking about retirement at a time like this?”

“Because that’s what I decided,” Victor repeated, as if there was no other reason. As if that reason alone was enough.

_But you love figure skating! I’ve seen the look on your face when you’re out on the ice. You won’t be able to live without it!_

“I’m quitting my job,” Yuuri said. “Once we’re married I’m going to go back to St. Petersburg where we’ll both retire together.”

“You can’t retire!”

“Why not? Are you the only one allowed to do it?” Yuuri challenged, forgetting that he was still holding Victor’s hand to his face. “Besides, the dancers all say that when performers get married they usually retire.”

“But not _you_! You’re not ready to retire!”

Yuuri opened his mouth and closed it again. Here they were – finally reunited after two weeks of separation and longing and, yet, they were a few wrong words away from a fight.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Yuuri said. “I’m really glad you’re back.” He put his arms around Victor and pressed his cheek against Victor’s shoulder. “I missed you,” he whispered.

They didn’t say any more about it before they got home. Yuuri sat Victor down in the kitchen once they arrived and served him the food he’d cooked ahead of time.

Victor was still silent.

_I thought you would return triumphant and we’d spend the day making up for all the time we’d lost. I didn’t expect to see you in this state._

What could he say? That no one could win every battle? But surely Victor, of all people, knew that!

Yuuri took Victor’s empty plate away and sat down in his lap. “I love you,” he said, taking Victor’s face in his hands. “You’re tired and you need rest.”

He waited for Victor to say something. Anything. A contradiction. A word in agreement. It didn’t matter which.

Victor closed his eyes.

Yuuri rested his forehead against his fiancé’s.

He let them stay this way for a while and then, remembering about the time, he got up and ordered Victor to go to sleep.

It wasn’t until they were both lying down next to each other that Victor broke his silence at last.

He shuddered and Yuuri slipped his arms around him.

“I can’t believe it,” Victor sobbed out. “I can’t… Is this… It’s too surreal… I…”

Yuuri held him close and rubbed his back soothingly.

He simply didn’t know what else to do.

_Yuuri stood in a gold dress and held a pear in his hand. “_ It’s summer time and I hang on a vine _,” he sang and bit into the pear. The juice trickled down his chin, but he didn’t wipe it off for some reason. He merely smiled and kept singing. “_ They’re gonna make me into sweet red wine. Hanging around like a fruit on a tree, waiting to be picked, come on cut me free. _”_

_After each line he took a bit of the fruit until there was nothing left. He licked his fingers with the look that said that he could be licking something else, if the viewer wished him to._

_One of his hands slid over his chest and down to his stomach. “_ Come on fill your cup up, looking for some good luck _.”_

_And then the golden dress started to melt off him, trickling down until nothing was left of it._

_Yuuri stood completely naked and smiled. “_ Oh, my body is ready, _” he sang…_

 

Victor opened his eyes. The space beside him was empty. No one was singing. It was just the neighbour’s radio.

Alone. He was alone again. Maybe he’d always been alone and this had been nothing more than a delirious dream, or a fantasy he’d created for himself to cope with his loneliness.

So alone…

Someone stepped into the bedroom.

Victor sat up.

Yuuri came, carrying breakfast on a tray. “Good morning!”

He could feel tears sliding down his face and smiled. “Good morning.”

“Oh, Victor,” Yuuri said with a sigh and put the tray down on his knees. “Eat. We’ll talk more about this when you’re done.”

He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve Yuuri’s attentions, or being served breakfast in bed, or any of this, really.

Seeing him hesitate, Yuuri made a joke about his cooking not being as good as Victor’s and then sat down by his side and fed him, catching Victor completely off guard.

Somehow in the two weeks he’d forgotten what it was like when Yuuri got all affectionate. More than that, he’d forgotten that Yuuri was there for him to lean on for support.

He let Yuuri fuss over him. He blushed at Yuuri’s flirting and the world was no longer a dark and lonely place.

He had his Yuuri by his side. He was in Paris, one of his favourite cities. He was alive and well.

As for figure skating…

“Louise gave me her dance teacher’s number,” Yuuri said when breakfast was over. “I’m going to call her and find out if she’ll take you on. Louise told me she’s been teaching dance for several decades now. I know it’s not the same, but it will be something, at least.”

“Thank you.”

Yuuri climbed onto his lap. “But today you’re all mine.”

All of the blood rushed to Victor’s face as he nodded weakly.

“Let’s do something you’ll like,” Yuuri whispered into his ear, “something you’ll really enjoy.”

Victor’s heart beat really fast. “Yes.”

Yuuri slipped off Victor’s lap. “You better get dressed then. I’m sorry to say that the fridge is completely empty.”

 

They were in the fruit aisle, trying to decide what they needed when Victor’s memory dug up his dream, catching him off guard and making him blush.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuri asked.

“N-nothing.”

Yuuri stepped closer. “Are you alright?”

“I… I just remembered the _Froot_ routine you did once.”

Victor’s dream hadn’t been too far from the real routine Yuuri had done once, a whole lifetime ago.

Yuuri threw his head back and laughed. He put an arm around Victor’s and sang softly into his ear, “ _Oh, my body is ready, yes it’s ready_.”

There they were – in an aisle full of apples, oranges and pears and Yuuri was singing seductively into his ear. It was almost too much for Victor to bear.

Yuuri chuckled and turned his attention to the pile of apples.

“More,” Victor breathed out, but Yuuri didn’t hear him.

It took several breaths before Victor could join Yuuri. He put his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders and opened his mouth to ask for more when Yuuri’s broken voice interrupted him.

“If Louise’s dance teacher doesn’t take you, I’ll call every dance teacher in Paris. I’ll find you someone. Just promise me you won’t retire. Not yet.”

He turned and Victor saw the tears in his eyes.

“I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri sings [Froot by Marina and the Diamonds](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WZzcY7ASQno). At some point he actually did this routine.


	16. The Deepest Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Day Five of Victuuri Week. The prompt is:Dance.

They returned with bags full of groceries. Yuuri sorted through them while Victor prepared to cook lunch. They cut the ingredients up together.

Victor peeled an apple and then cut a piece off to try. “Ah! As I thought: these apples are delicious. Try a piece.” He held one up for Yuuri who caught it with his mouth.

“Thank you.” He took Victor’s hand with both of his own and kissed his fingers. “Tell me,” he whispered and Victor felt his heart quicken in his chest, “how is it that _you_ couldn’t find a coach?”

Victor lowered his eyes. “I don’t know that many coaches who are in Paris right now and they’re busy with other students.”

Yuuri stepped closer. “So you didn’t actually try asking someone outside of Paris?”

“I can’t ask someone to fly here just to coach me!” Victor exclaimed.

“Why not?” Yuuri’s lips brushed against Victor’s fingers as he spoke, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“I-it seems r-rude to…” he trailed off.

Yuuri’s mouth closed over Victor’s index finger.

Victor suppressed the urge to back away. It would give Yuuri the wrong idea and he would only stop what he was doing. So he put his free arm around Yuuri and pulled him closer.

Yuuri released Victor’s finger and smiled at him. “You should’ve asked people anyway. You never know your luck – they might be available.”

“You’re probably right…” There was a glint in Yuuri’s eyes now that Victor had learned to recognize. He couldn’t stop himself from backing away this time. His back hit the wall. “I… I left the stove on,” he whispered as Yuuri followed him.

He watched Yuuri turn it off impatiently and come back. “So will you try calling one of them before I try Louise’s dance teacher?” He put his hands on the wall on alternate sides of Victor.

Victor swallowed and nodded. He wasn’t sure what he was agreeing to, but that could be sorted out later. He felt his knees tremble under him as Yuuri leaned towards his neck and slid his tongue over his skin. “Yuuri…” he gasped out.

“Actually,” Yuuri stepped back and Victor gulped down some air, “I think I want to do this right.”

“Do what?”

Yuuri sat him down in a chair. “Are you hungry, Victor? Can you wait a little?”

“I think so.”

“Will you give me some time? We can have lunch in an hour, right? Or would you rather eat first?”

Victor, finally understanding what Yuuri was getting at, took his hand and kissed it reverentially. “Lunch can wait.”

Yuuri smiled and left to change into a golden dress. He put slow music on and Victor reclined in his chair.

They’d done this many times while back in St. Petersburg.

He watched Yuuri climb onto the table and then dance slowly, sliding his hands over his body. He turned his back to Victor and unzipped the dress, watching Victor over his shoulder. The zipper went down, revealing bare skin. Halfway down Yuuri’s back and still there was no hint of any lingerie under it.

Victor swallowed.

The zipper was at Yuuri’s lower back now and he stopped. “I think the zipper is stuck.”

It was all part of the game: Victor would reach out and help Yuuri with the zipper that had supposedly gotten stuck and…

…and find himself holding a dress while Yuuri stood in front of him and giggled.

It happened this time too.

But this time Yuuri wasn’t wearing something that pretended to cover him. This time he wasn’t in something with tassels, or a mesh, or straps that turned Victor’s head.

This time he was completely naked.

Victor dropped the dress and reached out with his arms. Yuuri wrapped his arms around Victor’s neck.

“I thought I’d speed things up,” he whispered, pressing his nose against Victor’s.

Victor swept him up in his arms and carried him to their bedroom. Yuuri clung on with a quiet laugh. He didn’t let go when Victor lowered him onto the bed and pulled him down after him, turning them both over to be the one on top almost right away.

Yuuri sat up and slid his hands over Victor’s chest. “I missed this,” he whispered. “I missed flirting with you. I missed our cooking together, but most of all,” he leaned down and whispered into Victor’s ear, “I missed having sex with you.”

He slid his hands over Victor’s hair and kissed him. “Will you have sex with me?” he whispered. It had become part of the game, if that word was the right one to use in this situation.

They both knew the answer would be “yes”, but still they asked. They were both sincere when they asked it too. They had to be.

“Yes,” Victor whispered, finding the courage at last to slide his hands over Yuuri’s backside.

“I want to be on top this time,” Yuuri whispered.

He let Yuuri undress him with that expression he usually had, as if he was doing something really enjoyable.

He remembered meeting up with Chris once, a week before their move to Paris, and listening to his friend explain how to have a good time. He remembered making a comment that made Chris stop and admit that Victor knew more on the subject than he did.

 _No,_ Victor thought as Yuuri took him, _I don’t, but I have a really good teacher._

 

Afterwards they returned to cooking, exchanging smiles and flirting with each other. Victor dipped his finger in the sauce he made and held it out for Yuuri to lick.

Yuuri hummed happily, swinging his hips to the song, almost dancing as they finished preparing lunch.

And then, with it all arranged in a way that a restaurant would be proud of, Victor caught Yuuri around the waist and pulled him into a dance.

They laughed as they stepped across the room. Victor dipped Yuuri with a smile and Yuuri’s eyes went soft.

 

Yuuri was on the stage of the Moulin Rouge once more, dancing with the big red fathers raised to completely cover his upper body so that only his legs could be seen.

As well as his bare buttocks, Victor noted with a blush. He’d spent a good part of the night before worshipping those buttocks, planting little kisses in the space between them while Yuuri whispered for him to keep going.

To most people in the audience the beautiful dancers were there to be looked at and admired. How many of them could say, like Victor, “I ran my hands over him and kissed every centimetre I could get to last night”?

All this meant that Victor had to be careful. One night Yuuri told him that he had makeup that would cover it all up, but Victor didn’t trust it.

On the stage Yuuri lowered the feathers, revealing his torso and the big smile on his face. He moved in perfect synch with everyone else.

Maybe it was better when Yuuri was at his club. He would always jump onto Victor’s table and dance there. He’d flirt with Victor in front of others, dancing around him and even dance while sitting on top of him.

No, he was being selfish. Yuuri was better off here, Victor was sure of it.

The performance ended and all the dancers left the stage.

Victor remembered the call that morning. He’d found himself a coach at last. Yuuri had, actually.

Louise must’ve told her instructor, because she called early in the morning, waking them up, and demanded to know how long Victor was going to waste her time by slacking off.

What followed was a practice so gruelling it rivalled Yakov’s. He wasn’t allowed to put his skates on and went over his routine on the floor of her dance studio.

Victor shifted in his seat. His muscles still ached.

Two performances later Yuuri was out on the stage again. Several women in tall silver boots and short silver jackets alone with just enough clothes to cover their privates went around in a circle, alternating with shirtless men in silver pants.

The music played louder. There was a great crash of cymbals and the dancers all stepped away to reveal Yuuri standing in the middle.

He was in the diamond harness again and shoes that glittered so much they hurt to look at. A white boa curved around him. He kicked his legs up into the air with a smile.

Yuuri danced across the stage, the other dancers following after him. He returned to the middle, shrugged his boa off into the waiting hands of the male dancers behind him and turned his back to the audience. He did a backwards cartwheel, kicking his legs up into the air.

Victor shifted forward in his seat.

Three more cartwheels followed. Every line of his body was perfect, as if someone had sculpted him, paying attention to every centimetre.

Yuuri stopped and smiled at the audience over his shoulder.

He’d made friends with all of the dancers. Even Victor had and every time he brought roses for Yuuri the dancers talked about flowers and flower shops.

Victor knew where every flower shop within a two mile radius of the Moulin Rouge was. He knew which one sold the best roses in the deepest red imaginable. He’d even met the woman who grew them.

This time he came with a special bouquet.

When Yuuri’s time on the stage was over (and by now Victor learned which was Yuuri’s last exit onto the stage) he got up, not bothering to wait for the end and made his way backstage.

Each dancer he passed in the corridor smiled at him. “ _Bonsoir_ , Victor!”

He greeted each one by name and in French.

There was the dressing room up ahead. He knocked on the door and a chorus of voices asked him to come in.

“ _Bonsoir_ –” he turned away hastily.

Several girls burst out laughing.

Yuuri walked up to him. “Don’t mind them,” he said softly.

“It’s alright,” he stammered out.

Yuuri looked around the room. “We’re all decent now. You can turn around.”

Victor turned with a smile and held the bouquet out to Yuuri. “Madame Lescault sold the first ones like this to me today. She says this is the deepest red she’s ever seen in a rose.”

Yuuri took the flowers from him.

“She told me it’s a new type of rose and even let me name it,” Victor went on.

“What did you name it?” Yuuri asked, his eyes still on the flowers.

“Eros.”


	17. Eros Among the Eros

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Day Six of Victuuri Week. The prompt is: home.

Apart from preparing for the next competition Victor was also learning French. He had to: Louise’s dance teacher refused to speak anything else. The store owners he met attempted to speak English, but pretty soon Victor started to ask them, with an apology, to speak French to him. There was one person he didn’t dare speak French to, however. That person was Yuuri.

They spent afternoons speaking Russian or English, Yuuri still insisting he learn how to speak Victor’s native language.

One night Yuuri slipped into French without thinking and Victor felt all the blood rush to his face at once. He had to stop Yuuri so he could sit up and just breathe.

Some mornings he’d wake up to the sound of Yuuri singing in French as the radio played on. Each time he was sure he would pass out.

When they went out together Yuuri would order food in French while Victor hid his face behind a menu.

 _I have to get used to hearing him speaking French,_ Victor told himself time and time again, but it was no good.

The apartment was full of roses. They even grew in the pots on the windows. All of them the deep red ones named after Yuuri.

 

_“What did you name it?”_

_“Eros.”_

_Yuuri raised his eyes and dropped to one knee. He was still in his work clothes, which barely covered him, but he didn’t let that stop him. “Will you marry me, Victor?”_

_He blushed as if they weren’t already engaged and put his hands over his face. “Yes!”_

_The dancers all cheered and clapped and shouted “aww!”_

_That evening Yuuri asked Victor to wait while he got ready when he called Victor into the bedroom Victor found him lying on the bed, covered in nothing but the new roses._

_Yuuri smiled at him and only then did Victor notice the lipstick. “Eros among the Eros.”_

_He could feel his mouth hanging open, but couldn’t do a thing about it._

_“Will you take a picture of me?” Yuuri asked._

Maybe they could move here permanently. He’d have to find an apartment that allowed pets. He’d need to bring all of Yuuri’s posters over.

One night they sat up late, watching a movie and Victor gathered his courage for the big question. “Do you miss it, Yuuri?”

“Hm?”

“Do you miss St. Petersburg?”

Yuuri had that blissful smile on his face. “A bit. I think I learned to think of it as home.”

Victor shifted closer. He already had his arms around Yuuri.  He gave his fiancé a kiss on the shoulder.

“What’s brought this on all of a sudden?” Yuuri asked.

“I was just thinking about moving here permanently,” Victor admitted.

Yuuri smiled and said nothing.

“Unless you want to go back to that club,” Victor offered.

“I did enjoy my time there, that’s true,” Yuuri agreed, but only half-heartedly, as if he was trying to convince Victor that he wouldn’t mind going back, that they didn’t have to stay here.

Victor opened his mouth to tell Yuuri that he fit in better here, that the Moulin Rouge was much better for him, that he didn’t need to go back, if he didn’t want to, but Yuuri turned around to face him.

“There’s something I want to show you. Can you wait here?”

“Yes, of course.” Victor turned the TV off and watched Yuuri walk out of the room.

Yuuri returned in a black and white body suit that sparkled. There were two white hands drawn on the bodysuit, right over his backside. Yuuri brought a chair with him when he came in. He stopped in the middle of the room with his back to Victor, as if to show the details of his body suit and just how low it dipped on his back.

Maybe he had a little remote in his hand, or maybe he timed his exit just right, because music started to play then and he sang along. “ _It’s a cold and crazy world that’s ragin’ outside._ ” He dropped onto the chair and sat, facing Victor. “ _Well baby me and all my girls are bringin’ on the fire._ ” He spread his legs, “ _Show a little leg, gotta shimmy your chest_. _It’s a life, it’s a style, it’s a need, it’s Burlesque_.” He jumped onto the chair, crouching on it as the music played and he snapped his fingers to it.

Victor had seen this number before. Usually Yuuri would perform it with six other dancers on stage. They’d each get a chair to themselves. They’d chant the same words over and over again as they draped themselves over the chairs. “ _E-X-P-R-E-S-S, love, sex. Darling, no regrets._ ”

And then Yuuri would get up – like he did now – and dance around the chair – like he was doing now.

“ _Been holding back for quite some time and finally the moment’s right_.” He jumped onto the chair and ran his hands over his body. “ _I love to make the people stare. They know I got that certain savoir-faire._ ”

Yes, Victor had seen this number before. But that didn’t mean that he was ready to watch it from so close up. He wasn’t ready for Yuuri to move his chair closer with each line of the song. He wasn’t ready to watch Yuuri climb onto his lap as he sang, or to see him sit up, his knees resting on the couch on either side of Victor, as he sang, his hands sliding down over his own chest.

Yuuri sat down on top of Victor and then turned around, kicking his legs up over Victor’s head. He sat with his back to Victor and unzipped his body suit.

This hadn’t been part of the routine before.

If it had been, Yuuri would’ve been in a thong underneath it, so that when he got up to dance around the chair again and swing his hips in front of Victor’s face, he would’ve had something to cover him, if only a little bit.

But not this time.

He should’ve been used to this sight, he told himself afterwards. He shouldn’t have felt so faint, not him, not when he’d committed every centimetre of Yuuri to memory. Not when he’d spent nights worshipping every part of him.

Yuuri climbed over him, grabbed his tie with his teeth and pulled it off.

The music ended and Yuuri straightened up, pulling he tie out of his teeth with an expression that made Victor shake.

And then he had an innocent smile on his face. “You see?” he said. “I don’t need that club: I can perform just for you in private.”

The thought of Yuuri performing just for him in private where he would strip completely was too much for Victor and he passed out, too overwhelmed to be able to do anything else.

 

One day Victor came home to find Yuuri sitting on the couch with his legs crossed, wearing sheer stockings that went up to his knees.

Victor froze in the doorway of the room.

Yuuri uncrossed his legs. He wasn’t wearing anything apart from the stockings, just like Victor had suspected. “I know you’ve been working hard lately,” he said and Victor did his best to ignore one of the words in that sentence, “so I thought you deserved a little treat.”

He swallowed and opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Yuuri walked up to him. “What do you say to a little lesson in French?”

Victor had to hold on to the wall so that he wouldn’t fall over.

“I learned a song I thought you might like,” Yuuri went on mercilessly.

Victor wondered if he would stay conscious long enough to hear the whole thing.

“But you don’t look so well. Are you alright?” Yuuri asked, putting a hand on Victor’s arm.

“I’m fine,” Victor finally managed to say. He walked up to the couch and dropped onto it. “Wh-what song? I’d like to hear that song, please.”

Yuuri slipped onto his lap. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Victor nodded.

And Yuuri sang. For some reason, he adjusted Victor’s tie before he did. He started out in the lower notes, making Victor’s heart tremble. Yuuri really had an incredible voice and Victor listened to it, suddenly forgetting that he was singing in French or that he was wearing next to nothing.

Once Yuuri finished Victor almost clapped. “What do you think?” he asked.

“I love it,” Victor whispered.

“I love you,” Yuuri countered and leaned in for a kiss.

This was his life now and it was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri sings and performs [Express by Christina Aguilera](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_3NIBC4vKOQ).
> 
> Two more prompts left! I think the last one will be a sort of grand finale and there might not be more after that? I don't know, I have to think about it.  
> (I may have signed up for too many writing projects oops.)


	18. Something to Teach Eros

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Day Seven of Victuuri Week. The prompt is: Rest.

On days like this getting up was much harder than it really should have been.

He hadn’t expected such cold weather in Paris in the middle of the spring. True, during his time in Switzerland there had been some cold springs (and most of them very lonely too), but none of them had been like this.

Even thinking about it made him shiver.

His hands slid over Victor’s chest. The skater’s breathing was steady, which meant that he was still asleep.

He hadn’t been breathing so steadily last night, Yuuri had made sure of that.

Yuuri settled into a more comfortable position, keeping his eyes closed.

He remembered waking up one morning to find frost on the windows. It had been one of their days off together and they’d spent the afternoon making a snowman.

Yuuri smiled at the memory of the photo they’d taken together with it.

Whenever the temperature outside got this low the heating in their apartment would be inadequate and they’d pull on their thickest sweaters and warmest pants.

 

_Last night they curled up on the sofa side by side, trying to snuggle into each other’s sweaters. It ended with Yuuri pulling his own sweater off and slipping into Victor’s. It wasn’t long after that that Victor’s sweater was discarded as well…_

 

It was so warm here now. Yuuri put his ear over Victor’s heart and listened to it beat.

 

_They started on the sofa, draping their clothes all over it, and made their way to the bedroom._

_Yuuri giggled as Victor’s fingers slipped in between his skin and the complicated thing he’d worn under his clothes this time. He rested his forehead against Victor’s and waited for Victor to find a way to take it off. He breathed heavily, wondering if Victor was taking his time on purpose. Knowing him, he was probably just confused._

_The thought made Yuuri giggle even more._

_Victor raised his eyes. “I’m awful at this, aren’t I?”_

_“I wouldn’t say that,” Yuuri replied and planted a kiss on Victor’s nose…_

 

Victor mumbled something in his sleep, but slept on.

Yuuri wondered what time it was. He probably had another few hours. Victor was resting after another gruelling day of practice and he himself didn’t need to get to practice until the afternoon.

Now that the question had been asked, he reached out for his phone to check the time and gave a sigh.

He didn’t have as much time as he’d thought.

He planted a kiss on Victor’s chest and slipped out from under the blanket.

Suppressing a second sigh, he headed for the bathroom. He paused in the doorway and looked back over his shoulder. If Victor had been awake in that moment, he would’ve been presented with a sight worthy of his collection of photos of Yuuri. Yuuri, on the other hand, had a view of the living legend still peacefully asleep under the blanket.

He blew Victor a kiss and closed the bathroom door behind him.

 

They went on dates that felt almost like first dates when they’d sit opposite each other and not know what to talk about. Sometimes they’d say nothing, because all words were meaningless and sometimes they’d talk about mundane things, as if they were the most important things in the world.

On warm days Victor would rent a boat and they’d float by on the Seine, watching the city as if from far away. Some days when they slipped out together Yuuri couldn’t shake the feeling that they were eloping.

Victor would dress in a suit and Yuuri would alternate between a suit and something sheer that would leave parts of his torso exposed. On those evenings he would return wearing Victor’s jacket.

They’d find discreet places tucked away from prying eyes to steal kisses, as if they weren’t fiancés, but lovers meeting in secret from their parents.

 

“I want to take you to Japan,” Yuuri said one morning over breakfast. “My parents will come here for the wedding, of course, but I want us to go there. It’s been too long since I’ve been there myself.”

Victor smiled and agreed to go. Their honeymoon plans were starting to turn into a trip around the world, but they weren’t going to let that stop them.

 

The World Championship was a mere week away now and this time Yuuri would go see Victor compete in person. He found time to attend some of Victor’s practices, which was when Victor made a small discovery.

Yuuri couldn’t skate. Neither could he rollerblade.

The only time Victor managed to talk Yuuri into putting a pair of skates on and stepping out on the ice was also the only time he’d ever seen Yuuri fall over ungracefully.

 _Maybe it’s finally my turn to teach you something,_ Victor thought. He remembered feeling jealous of couples at public skating rinks. Now he could finally get a moment like that himself. Would Yuuri agree to that? To going around while holding Victor’s hand and trusting him to keep him upright?

He caught Yuuri as he lost his balance again and listened to him laugh at his clumsiness.

Were they really getting married? Was it really possible that this beautiful man was about to become his husband?

“I think I’m going to leave you to your practice,” Yuuri said, giving Victor a peck on the cheek. “You’ll have to teach me how to skate some other time.”

“It’s a promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next one will make it look like the fic is complete, but I might add more, if I can think of another prompt. (Although, I think the next chapter will be a kind of a finale...)


	19. I Want to be Loved by You, Just You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Day Eight of Victuuri Week. The prompt is: Dreams.

Maybe it was all nothing more than a dream, just a silly fantasy that they were living. Maybe marrying a performer like Yuuri was a bad idea, although Victor didn’t believe that for an instant. Maybe he didn’t deserve Yuuri’s love (sometimes he believed that one, but Yuuri was always good at changing his mind on the subject).

Victor stood on the ice in front of his new coach and Yuuri, who was holding his hand with a gentle smile.

He’d complimented Victor’s short program. Now it was time for the free skate.

Yuuri raised Victor’s hand to his lips and kissed it.

“Good luck,” he said.

“Next on the ice – Victor Nikiforov!”

He nodded at Yuuri and skated away.

Victor’s theme for his free skate was dreams and he was in a light and airy costume to match.

A soft melody played and he skated like someone who’d just entered a dream. Each movement was delicate, as if he himself was made from glass. His coach had ironed out the delicacy, making Victor spend whole weeks doing ballet.

But he didn’t think of her then. He thought only of Yuuri. Yuuri standing on a bridge near the Eiffel Tower, smiling at Victor under the bright sunshine. Yuuri reclining against the railing while the wind played with his hair. Yuuri leaning on Victor’s arm.

He thought of days when it would suddenly rain, catching them off guard.

 

_Yuuri turned to look at Victor. His hair was all wet and sticking to his face._

_They ran for cover, heading for the first café they spotted._

_As soon as they stopped Victor shrugged his coat off and wrapped it around Yuuri’s shoulders._

_“Thank you,” Yuuri whispered and gave him a kiss._

Victor thought of that kiss as he went into a spin. A complicated step sequence followed the spin, but all he could think about was the new apartment they’d picked out, how big and cozy it was. Makkachin will love it, he was sure. He couldn’t wait to move into it himself.

He always struggled with the last part of the step sequence, but not this time. This time he got it just right. He moved as if he was tiptoeing on the ice, imagining that he was tiptoeing in the new apartment while Yuuri slept on, exhausted from the night before.

Somewhere out there Yakov was watching. Was he shaking his head and calling Victor a hopeless case or…? But no, he was probably disappointed, as usual.

Victor went around the rink, thinking of that morning, of Yuuri peacefully asleep by his side, of the light of the rising sun filling the hotel room and making the ring on Yuuri’s finger gleam.

He jumped the quadruple flip.

The audience cheered.

He kept going as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Three weeks ago he’d picked out his wedding suit while Yuuri picked what he would wear in secret from Victor.

They’d decided on a white and gold theme for their wedding…

Victor jumped his second quadruple flip.

They’d sent out their invitations. Each had a deep red rose on the cover and gold lettering all around it.

He remembered how his fingers trembled when he picked up the invitations for their parents. He’d committed Yuuri’s address in Japan to memory without thinking.

The audience cheered on as he neared the end of his skate.

They’d booked two nights in Tokyo. Yuuri had promised to take him to all the interesting places in his hometown.

He wasn’t going to retire. Neither of them was. He would spend the summer looking for a new theme for his next season and coming up with a new way to surprise the audience.

Speaking of surprise…

He jumped his fifth quad of the evening and the audience screamed so loudly he was sure the walls were shaking. He could barely hear his music come to an end after that.

This time he sat with Yuuri in the kiss and cry when they announced his scores.

“Victor Nikiforov broke the world record again! Unbelievable!”

Yuuri took Victor’s hand and planted little kisses on each knuckle.

“Putting him in first place and making him the world champion for the sixth time!”

Yuuri was saying something, but Victor couldn’t understand a word.

They were chanting his name.

He got up as if this was the first time the audience chanted his name, as if he was at a loss as to what to do, as if this was his first victory.

Yuuri rose to his feet next to him. He was chanting along with the crowd, clapping his hands.

And only later when the full realization hit him, when he stared down at the gold medal around his neck and really believed that he’d won, despite everything, did he find the correct response.

He skated over to where Yuuri stood and put the medal around his neck. “This is yours more than it is mine.”

Yuuri tried to protest, but he kissed his fiancé’s hand reverentially and smiled.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re perfect?” Yuuri asked softly.

“My fiancé has, but I think he was just trying to flatter me at the time.” He liked the sound of the word fiancé. Husband sounded better, but he was determined to enjoy the sound of “fiancé” for as long as he could.

Yuuri laughed.

 

It was dark as someone prepared for the next performance. And then several bright beams of light turned on, all aimed at the same spot where a figure stood in something long and dark.

The intro of the song began to play and the figure threw the black coat off, revealing himself to be Yuuri in a gold dress.

The audience gasped.

“ _I wanna be loved by you, just you_ ,” he sang, running his hands over his body. “ _And nobody else but you. I wanna be loved by you, alone!_ ” He rolled his shoulders playfully. “ _Boop-boop-de-boop!_ ”

The gold dress sparkled in the light. It was sheer in some parts and was just long enough to cover him.

And then a second figure appeared and the audience broke out into enthusiastic cheers and applause as they realized just what they were about to see.

Victor skated around Yuuri, going in a spiral so that when he stopped he was right in front of him.

Yuuri was in heels. Someone had set up an impromptu stage for him, but Yuuri wasn’t going to stay there: he stepped up to Victor, put the toe of one foot on Victor’s toe, raised his other leg gracefully and took Victor by the shoulders.

Victor skated off, holding Yuuri around the waist.

Afterwards people called them mad for what they did. The newspapers were full of all sorts of criticisms. Someone had even tried to interview Yakov about what it was like being Victor’s coach (and got nothing). But neither of them were bothered by this.

“ _I wanna be kissed by you, just you,_

_Nobody else but you._

_I wanna be kissed by you, alone!_

Yuuri climbed onto Victor’s back, or clung on to his side, or climbed onto his thigh as the music played mercilessly on.

He wasn’t singing at the same time, surely!

“ _I couldn't aspire to anything higher_ ,” Yuuri climbed onto Victor’s shoulder and sat there, kicking one leg up into the air, “ _Than, to feel the desire to make you my own!_ ” He waved. “ _Ba-dum-ba-dum-ba-doodly-dum-boo!_ ”

The people in the front seats were probably the only ones who saw him wink at that line.

He climbed down and rested on Victor’s toe again. He stared into Victor’s eyes, his hands around Victor’s neck once more. “ _I wanna be loved by you, just you and nobody else but you._ _I wanna be loved by you, alone!_ ”

Victor was in a white skating costume embroidered with gold. Yuuri had complimented him on it that morning.

The gold medal still hung around Yuuri’s neck.

It was a short song, much too short for the audience’s liking.

Victor stopped with Yuuri still on his toe.

“ _I wanna be loved by you,_ ” he sang, raising a hand to pull his fingers through Victor’s hair. “ _Ba-deedly-deedly-deedly-dum-ba-boop-bee-doop,_ ” Yuuri caught Victor’s mouth in a kiss to more cheers and applause.

They got louder as Yuuri broke the kiss and he spoke, forgetting completely that he was still speaking into a microphone, “That was amazing! I see what you like about skating so much! The speed and… That was better than… well, everything! Better than dancing!”

Victor chuckled.

“It’s like – no, it’s better than flying!”

The audience chanted for an encore.

“What do you say to a victory lap?” Victor asked.

“Are you sure? Aren’t you tired?”

Victor laughed. “I’ll never tire of carrying you.”

Yuuri climbed onto his shoulder and they went around, waving at the audience. Yuuri blew kisses and got ecstatic screams in return.

 

That evening, after the banquet and a dance competition that most of the people in the banquet hall weren’t ready for (especially Yuri Plisetsky, who suddenly got his wish and saw Yuuri perform in person at last), after a slow dance that went on for four songs, Victor picked Yuuri up and carried him all the way back to their hotel room.

Yuuri clung on, unable to keep the expression of surprise from his face.

“I told you that I’m willing to carry you my whole life, didn’t I?” Victor asked. He had to keep stopping in front of every door to let Yuuri open it, but he refused to put Yuuri down anyway.

Yuuri laughed as Victor lowered him onto the bed. “I think just the wedding night will be enough for me.” He reclined and raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe I’ll carry you.”

Victor climbed over him, stopping with his hands resting on the bed, on either side of Yuuri’s thighs.

Yuuri pulled his legs to himself, keeping them spread apart.

The six-time champion shifted forward and rested his cheek against Yuuri’s thigh. “I promise to spend the rest of my life worshipping you,” he whispered. “I promise that I will always be by your side.”

“Are you practicing your wedding vows already?” Yuuri asked. He’d stripped at the banquet to delighted whistles from everyone in the room and didn’t bother getting dressed afterwards, so he was still only in heels and a white lace body harness. And Victor’s gold medal. For some reason he couldn’t part with it.

Victor shifted closer and planted a kiss on Yuuri’s stomach. “I want you to seduce me with all that you have,” he whispered, sliding his hands over Yuuri’s thighs, his fingers slipping in between the straps of Yuuri’s body harness.

“Now that is a _very_ dangerous request.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri sings [Marilyn Monroe’s I Wanna be Loved by You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5eDHlgnRuaM).
> 
> On the one hand, I think this makes for a fitting finale, but on the other hand this was never meant to be a proper fic, so might come back with more drabbles. But seeing as I'm in a zine, and have so many WIPs that need work, this ficlet collection will go on a break for a while. You can still leave prompts, if you want!


	20. Valentine's Day

It was dark outside when Yuuri came home. A velvety evening descended on Paris. The lights of the city shone so brightly that on some streets it was as bright as day.

Yuuri was in a long red pencil dress. He’d already gotten several curious looks as he walked down the street, but he ignored all of them and headed straight for his and Victor’s apartment.

The key clicked in the lock and he swung the door open.

A delicious smell made him stop in the doorway. His head spun. So this was Victor’s surprise!

He closed the door behind him with a smile.

Not bothering to remove his heels, he headed straight for the balcony where he knew Victor would be waiting for him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Victor said, handing Yuuri a bouquet of roses.

Yuuri took them and reached out to catch Victor’s lips in a kiss. He held on for as long as he dared and then pulled away to take in Victor’s appearance.

Victor was in a well-tailored black suit with a single red rose in his breast pocket that matched the colour of the tie around his neck. He pulled a chair out for Yuuri and then rushed back to the kitchen to bring out their dinner.

He really outdid himself this time. Yuuri swallowed the last bite, closed his eyes and gave a happy sigh. “I’m in heaven,” he whispered.

They sat across from each other by the light of two candles. Yuuri rested his chin on one hand while his other hand slid over Victor’s possessively.

The balcony opened up onto Paris. Not far from them were the lights of the Moulin Rouge, like a constant reminder of Yuuri’s job now. Any other day Yuuri would stand with Victor and admire the view.

But he was more interested in a different view that day.

He rose to his feet, circled the table and sat down on the edge next to Victor, raising one leg playfully. “If I knew no one would see us, I would have you right here and right now.”

Victor stared up at him and then shifted closer. He put his hands reverentially on Yuuri’s thighs and bent down to kiss each knee.

When he raised his head Yuuri unzipped his dress and let it tumble down. He put a hand on Victor’s head and tapped it playfully with his fingers. “Should we move on to the bedroom?”

Instead of an answer, Victor picked Yuuri up and carried him away.

He lowered Yuuri carefully onto their bed and switched a small bedside lamp on to get a better look at what Yuuri was wearing.

He was in another body harness. There were black straps criss-crossing his chest, covered in red flowers. One red flower was just at the bottom of his abdomen as well as one flower at each hip.

Victor ran his fingers over Yuuri’s thighs as more details caught his eye, like the heart in the strap over one thigh. He planted a kiss on it and gazed at Yuuri in admiration.

“What do you want to do?” he asked, ready for anything.

Instead of an answer, Yuuri pulled Victor’s red tie off and tied his hands to one of the bedsteads.

Victor dropped to his knees on the bed, getting a smile out of Yuuri. Victor slid his fingers over Yuuri’s back and watched his reaction.

Yuuri felt Victor unbuckle one of the straps and closed his eyes. Victor took his time, knowing how much it delighted Yuuri when he did so. Each time he removed one of the straps, he placed a kiss in its place. The places where there had been a flower got two kisses each.

Three kisses for the right hip…

Three kisses for the left…

Yuuri was breathing hard, waiting for what Victor would do next. He let Victor turn him over and waited for the touch of Victor’s fingers, but he got more kisses instead.

Down Yuuri’s back Victor went until he reached the only strap that still went around Yuuri’s body. He slid it down, planted a kiss and down again, followed by another kiss…

Yuuri gasped for air. “You can… You can just use your… teeth…” he breathed out.

Victor lips slid over Yuuri’s skin and he regretted tying up his hands. He wished he could clutch at his heart instead. He could feel Victor’s teeth close over the strap and gave a little moan. Why was Victor taking his time? Why couldn’t he just pull it all off Yuuri already?

Victor gave him another kiss and moved away.

 _He’s undressing himself now, isn’t he?_ Yuuri fought for breath.

But Victor put his hands over Yuuri’s shoulders, leaned down and whispered into his ear, “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise return! I know I said I'd take a break, but it's Valentine's Day and I felt like I had to do something. And then I saw [this lovely art](http://phyxalia.tumblr.com/post/170838718262/a-valentines-special-yuuri-in-lingerie-viktors) and couldn't resist writing for this AU again. 
> 
> A note on continuity: this is set almost a year after the previous chapter, so after the wedding and honeymoon, which hopefully I'll write at some point haha.
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!


	21. Coming Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few days ago, to my great surprise, I got an ask to do another ficlet for this AU, so this is how this one was born.
> 
> ...another surprise return of an AU? Maybe?

The small town of Hasetsu was in an uproar. A fisherman stood on the town’s main bridge and wondered what was happening. Even from his spot he could see the sudden bustle of activity. People were filling the town with posters and flowers.

He watched a man run past him, recognized his neighbour and called out his name. “Is the Emperor coming for a visit?” He’d meant it as a joke. He knew there was no reason for the Emperor or any members of his family to come visit Hasetsu.

“Haven’t you heard? Yuuri Katsuki is coming!” the man exclaimed.

“Little Yuuri Katsuki?” He chuckled at the memory of a shy six-year-old boy. “Why all the preparations?”

“Haven’t you heard anything?” the man asked incredulously. “He’s getting married! To Victor Nikiforov! Here!”

It took a long time for the fisherman to digest all of this information. When it finally assembled itself into a coherent shape in his head, he asked, “Who’s Victor Nikiforov?”

 

Victor Nikiforov was drunk witless with a tie around his head in a nightclub in the centre of Tokyo. Still he did his best to remain upright and not fall flat on his face.

His fiancé – “little Yuuri Katsuki” – was up on the stage in front of him, dancing suggestively against a pole. Yuuri was also very drunk.

They’d been celebrating their upcoming wedding and got a little carried away. Then, encouraged by the alcohol in his blood, Yuuri had declared that what Victor needed was a good stag party with a stripper and stole the spot of one of the club’s pole dancers. No one in that club was ready for what Yuuri did next.

Yuuri leaned against the pole as his shirt slipped off as if on its own.

“Turn the music off!” Victor suddenly demanded.

For some reason, they obeyed.

In the silence that followed Yuuri’s shirt tumbled onto the stage, revealing the lace harness he had on underneath. He was still in a pair of tight leather pants and heels.

He closed his eyes and sang, “ _Every Saturday night I seem to come alive for you, baby_.”

Victor stood right at the stage. Yuuri’s heels were within reach and he debated reaching over and kissing Yuuri’s feet.

“No, not yet,” he whispered, a note of impatience in his voice.

Yuuri’s hands slid down his hips, got partway down his thighs and went back up again. “ _I’m racing in the lights for you, baby_.” His hands stroked his hips slowly – up, down, up, down – following the rhythm of the song, “ _I drive fast, radio blares, have to touch myself to pretend you’re there_.” As he sang one hand caught the top of his zipper and pulled it down.

Someone behind Victor let out a loud whistle.

Yuuri continued as if hadn’t heard it, swaying gently from side to side, “ _Your hands were on my hips, your name is on my lips_.” He opened his eyes and fixed Victor with a long stare.

Finally he turned, bent over and pulled his pants off.

The club filled with cheers and whistles.

Yuuri straightened up, swung his pants over one shoulder and smiled at the audience over the other.

“ _I’ve got a burning desire for you, baby_.” He turned and walked over to Victor.

Victor leaned over and planted a kiss on each of Yuuri’s feet.

In return, Yuuri dropped his pants over Victor’s head.

Victor clutched them to his face, not realizing he’d wrapped them around his neck.

Yuuri crouched down and slid a finger under Victor’s chin. “ _I drive fast, wind in my hair, push it to the limits ‘cause I just don’t care_ ,” he sang on. He took Victor’s head with both hands and breathed loudly. In. Out. In. Out.

Victor’s heart beat fast. He tried to snatch a kiss, but Yuuri pulled away with a raised eyebrow. He rolled his shoulders playfully and Victor reached forward to plant kisses on them instead.

Yuuri laughed.

Afterwards neither of them could remember how they made it back to their hotel room, but they must’ve done it since the next morning they woke up tangled around each other in a hotel bed.

One of Yuuri’s legs was wrapped around one of Victor’s, trapped between Victor’s legs. Yuuri’s stomach was pressed against Victor’s back. Yuuri sighed next to Victor’s ear as Victor’s mind tried to make sense of everything he was feeling.

Victor’s right hand slid over Yuuri’s thigh.

The knee of Yuuri’s trapped leg rose towards Victor’s chest as if he was trying to untangle himself from Victor.

_He’s wearing heels!_ Victor suddenly realized and his eyes snapped open as he realized just where Yuuri’s heel had ended up.

Yuuri chuckled and moved his leg down a bit and then back up a little, stroking Victor with his heel.

He couldn’t do anything, but shake and pray that Yuuri would keep going. Victor’s dry lips parted. “More…”

Yuuri buried his face in Victor’s back and planted a kiss between his shoulder blades while his hands stroked Victor’s chest.

Victor moaned, reclining his head.

Yuuri pressed his lower body against Victor’s and kissed his neck.

They had to be somewhere, Victor brain reminded him, somewhere important. _Yuuri’s hometown! Yuuri’s parents!_

His eyes snapped open. “Yuuri! Our train!”

One finger slid up over the middle of Victor’s chest. “The train can wait,” he whispered in a voice that made Victor break out into a cold sweat. “I can’t… wait…” he breathed out.

Victor shuddered and put a hand over Yuuri’s. “I’m sorry,” he said and raised it to his mouth for a kiss. Very carefully he untangled their legs and turned to look at Yuuri. “We need to go, my love.”

Yuuri blushed and covered his face with his hands.

“What? What’s wrong?” _Is there something on my face? I know my hair is a mess!_

He peered from between his fingers. “No one had ever called me “my love” before,” he admitted.

Victor reached down and kissed Yuuri’s right hand. “My dear love,” he whispered and kissed his left hand. “My sweet love.”

Yuuri moved his hands out of the way and caught a kiss with his mouth. “I love you,” he said between kisses, “so much…”

 

The train for Hasetsu was mostly empty. Two people sat side by side in complete silence in one of the carriages. Victor stared out the window at the rapidly-changing landscape while Yuuri slept with his head on his fiancé’s shoulder.

Yuuri was dressed casually, as if they were off on a picnic by the ocean. Victor, on the other hand, had made sure to look his best for his first meeting with his future in-laws.

“What are you worrying about?” Yuuri asked, not bothering to open his eyes.

“Just… nervous your parents won’t like me,” Victor confessed. “I want to make a good first impression, you know!”

Yuuri sat back and laughed. “Well, six-time world champion, kindest man in the world and handsomest being on the planet, something tells me you just might pull it off.”

Victor frowned. “It’s easy for you to laugh and make jokes. You’re not the one doing this!” He straightened his shirt self-consciously. “Besides, you’re the handsomest one.”

Yuuri pulled his fingers through Victor’s hair. “Just cook or bake something for them and you’ll win them over in a heartbeat.”

“Really?” He looked hopeful. That was easy. He had a lot of faith in his cooking skills. After all, he’d had lots of time to perfect them.

Yuuri’s fingers slid down Victor’s cheek. “It made a good impression on me…”

Victor looked into Yuuri’s eyes. “Is that what you love about me?”

“Hmmm…” Yuuri shifted closer and his eyes overflowed with feeling. “I love everything about you – your honest, your cooking and your good looks. I love experimenting with you.” He traced a circle on Victor’s chest with his finger. “But most of all I love that I can be myself with you.”

“Oh, Yuuri!”

Yuuri took his hands off Victor and joined them as he stared unseeingly at the scenery. “It took me a long time to find myself,” he confessed in a low voice, “and an even longer time to find someone who would accept all sides of me. My exes were never interested in my wants or my feelings. They only cared about their own needs.”

“Why did you leave home?” Victor asked, realizing this was one question he’d never heard the answer to.

Yuuri continued to stare out the window. “I always felt different,” he began. “I didn’t care much for studying and I knew university wasn’t right for me. My mother signed me up for dance lessons and I really enjoyed those.” He smiled at the memory. “When I was sixteen I stumbled into a little shop that sold clothes I’d never seen before.” He met Victor’s eye. “I remember trying them on in the fitting rooms in the back and then staring at my reflection and thinking how much they suited me.” He put a hand on Victor’s arm. “That was my first time wearing lingerie.” He laughed softly. “The store owner had to explain what garters and corsets were to me.”

“Do you still have it?” Victor asked.

“I didn’t have any money to buy it, of course, even though I wanted it more than anything.” He laughed. “The owner even offered me a discount, but…” Yuuri gave a little shake of his head. “So I had to find a job and save up.”

There was a silence after those words. Victor could see that Yuuri was reliving those years and didn’t want to interfere.

“I went to Europe, hoping to make a career in dancing,” Yuuri continued. “Before I knew it, I was in that club where you found me…” He stroked Victor’s arm absent-mindedly.

“And now we’re in Paris,” Victor concluded.

Yuuri met Victor’s eye and smiled. “You made me the happiest person alive. Truly.”

“I love you.”

They exchanged a kiss that made both of their hearts race.

“My parents will love you too,” Yuuri promised softly.

 

The train pulled into the station and what few passengers it had spilled out onto the platform. Yuuri and Victor took the escalator from the platform to the rest of the station, holding each other’s hands and keeping their eyes fixed on each other.

A loud scream made them turn and both men stared in amazement at the giant crowd gathered right in front of the turnstiles. Some of them were waving big banners with Victor’s name on them.

Yuuri laughed.

“I didn’t expect a welcoming committee!” Victor exclaimed.

“Neither did I!”

The crowd consisted mostly of fans who wanted autographs from both men, much to Yuuri’s surprise. He handed autographs out gladly until finally someone pushed their way through the crowd and stopped in front of them.

“Yuuri!” a woman exclaimed and threw her arms around his neck.

Victor stood with his mouth slightly open and watched. He wasn’t ready for her to turn around and throw her arms around him too. Before he could ask Yuuri if this was his sister, she dragged them both out of the station and into a car waiting for them.

She and Yuuri were speaking to each other in Japanese. Victor sat back and listened, unable to understand a word.

“This is Minako,” Yuuri explained at last, “she was my dance teacher for a while.” He nodded at the window. “See those flowers? She says they were put up in our honour.”

“What?” Victor stared out the window. The street was lined with flower pots. “They really didn’t have to…” he mumbled.

“And now I’m wondering,” Yuuri whispered, “if I should give a little performance for the town to show my gratitude.”

“And your parents?”

Yuuri shrugged. “Them too, I suppose.” He reached out and put his arms around Victor. “Or do you think I shouldn’t?” His nose touched Victor’s and Victor felt his breath catch in his throat.

_I love you. I really, really love you._

The car stopped and Yuuri pulled away. Remembering himself, Victor jumped out of the car, walked around and opened the door for Yuuri.

Yuuri stepped out with a little laugh and Victor turned to see Minako gaping at them. “Shall we?” Yuuri asked, wrapping his arm around Victor’s. “I should probably tell you,” Yuuri said as they entered the gates in front of a big house, “that my parents run an inn at the hot springs here.”

The next minutes were a mad chaos. As soon as Yuuri opened the door family members spilled out. They greeted Yuuri with lots of enthusiasm and then transferred all of that onto Victor who did his best to remember who was who and to greet everyone.

He’d been nervous and had expected scrutinizing stares and difficult questions. He didn’t expect to be pulled into a warm family that acted overjoyed to see him. After a big dinner in their honour they were both sent off to the hot springs on their own.

 

The sky above was dark and the moon shone down on Victor sitting alone in the water. He waited patiently for Yuuri who’d promised to come join him soon.

Finally Yuuri stepped out and stood right in front of the water. To Victor’s surprise, he was in a long red dress. But, then, he reflected, maybe as the son of the owner Yuuri was allowed to bend the rules a little.

“ _I’ve got a burning desire for you, baby_ ,” Yuuri sang in a low voice that reached inside Victor and flicked a switch.

He moved as close to Yuuri as staying in the water allowed and waited.

One of Yuuri’s hands rose and he pulled the dress off one shoulder and then the other. In the light of the moon he positively glowed.

“ _I’ve got a burning desire for you, baby_.” The dress fell on the ground.

Yuuri stood in a leather body harness that criss-crossed over his chest, making it look as if someone had tied straps around his body.

The breath caught in Victor’s throat.

Yuuri’s hands worked through the clasps, undoing one at a time until he was free of the harness. It, too, fell on the floor.

He stepped forward slowly and Victor wished he was sitting in cold water.

The water accepted Yuuri as he stepped in, closing around his legs. He sat down next to Victor and gave him a mischievous grin.

“Yuuri…” Victor whispered.

“We’re not allowed to have sex in the hot springs,” Yuuri whispered back and laughed. Before Victor could do or say anything, Yuuri climbed over his legs and sat down in his lap. “But there’s no rule against kissing,” he said, taking Victor’s head with both hands.

“I love you,” Victor said.

Yuuri kissed his neck on one side, then on the other. He kissed Victor’s cheeks, and eyes, and forehead, he planted a kiss on the tip of Victor’s nose and then shifted closer for the final kiss.

Victor’s heart beat fast. “I will always love you and no one else,” Victor vowed. “Until death do us part.”

“I will love you and always look after you,” Yuuri vowed in return.

They sealed their vows with a kiss, but only the moon and the stars were there to witness that magical moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Yuuri sings is: [Burning Desire by Lana del Rey](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=chsnOSzLjJk)


	22. The Wedding

On the morning of the day before his wedding Yuuri found his fiancé surrounded by his family, talking to all of them at once. Yuuri paused in the doorway and took in the scene of familial bliss with a fond smile on his face.

He hadn’t told them anything about Victor’s parents, so it could only have been instinct that suggested to them that Victor was in desperate need of a warm and doting family overwhelming him with their affection.

Yuuri didn’t dare interrupt until Victor turned his head and spotted him.

“Good morning!” he called out.

Yuuri walked over to Victor, put his arms around the man’s neck and gave him a brief kiss on the lips.

A faint blush coloured Victor’s cheeks and he returned the kiss.

Yuuri sat down next to him with a satisfied look on his face, taking care to brush his hand over Victor’s shoulders as he did.

“I’ll get you break –” Victor began, but Yuuri’s mother was already setting the table before him.

Yuuri ate, relaxing in the easy atmosphere around him.

After several minutes of silence Victor ventured, “Your mother told me that there’s an ice rink a short walk away.”

“Oh yes,” Yuuri agreed, remembering about it. He’d planned to take Victor there later.

“So we can go there for a skating lesson once you’re done eating!” Victor announced.

Yuuri gave him a sly smile. “Do I need to learn how to skate for you to marry me?”

Victor laughed and Yuuri moved closer.

“I’ll do my best,” the performer promised, his grin getting wider. He put a hand over Victor’s.

They set off after breakfast, strolling arm in arm and enjoying the sight of their surroundings.

Everything was pleasant – the morning air, the fresh breeze, the comfort of each other’s presence, but the feeling ended as soon as Yuuri pulled a pair of skates on.

The rink wasn’t strictly open, but when the staff saw who wanted to skate around it, they were too stunned to argue.

Yuuri tied his shoelaces and eyed the skates doubtfully.

“What’s wrong?” Victor asked.

“Nothing. Just wondering how many times I’ll fall over in these.”

“I promise to keep you from falling,” Victor said.

“Be careful,” Yuuri warned him, “or you’ll be making promises you can’t keep.”

With a laugh, Victor helped Yuuri up to his feet and they shuffled awkwardly to the rink.

Yuuri nearly fell over on the way there and laughed the rest of the way.

Thankfully, the rink was empty when they got there and Yuuri celebrated the fact by nearly falling a second time.

Was Victor disappointed? Yuuri wondered. After several minutes out on the ice, it became very obvious that Yuuri couldn’t skate at all and had to be held the whole time.

“Move your feet more,” Victor instructed. He turned and took Yuuri by both hands. Now he skated backwards as he took Yuuri with him.

Yuuri stared at their feet. Victor was moving with such grace while Yuuri was still shuffling along like someone walking on stilts.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “This isn’t the romantic skate you imagined, is it?”

A wistful smile appeared on Victor’s face. “It is,” he countered.

“Really?”

Victor nodded. “I was hoping I could teach you how to skate. You’ve taught me so much that I wanted to return the favour.”

“You charmer,” Yuuri whispered, moving closer. “What am I supposed to say to something like that?”

Victor reached down for a kiss and held Yuuri close.

Yuuri heart beat fast, as if this was their first confession, or first date. He closed his eyes and handed himself over. _I love you so much._

The world turned over and suddenly both men found themselves falling.

“Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed and pulled them around just in time for Yuuri to end up on top of him.

Yuuri buried his head in Victor’s chest with a laugh and Victor, too, threw his head back and laughed. Yuuri shuffled forward awkwardly on his elbows and knees and sat up over Victor. “Now isn’t this a familiar sight?” he asked, eyes glowing.

Victor teased, all anticipation of what Yuuri would do next.

Yuuri rested his chin on his hands and grinned. “I like this type of skating, coach.”

Victor’s eyes softened and he relaxed. “Of course I’d fall when I’m with you. I’m always falling when I’m with you.”

“I’m going to marry you,” Yuuri whispered, slipping his fingers into Victor’s hair, “over and over again. Every day of my life.”

“Yes,” Victor whispered.

Yuuri’s heart beat fast in his chest as he reached down for a kiss to seal this promise. _Well, I already married you at least twice,_ he thought.

Remembering where they were, Yuuri climbed off Victor and asked for another skating lesson, resisting the temptation to look coy and flirt. But it was hard not to flirt with Victor, even with – no, _especially_ with – their wedding so close.

It ended with Victor placing Yuuri on his shoulder and skating around the ice.

They returned home an hour later, tired, hungry and unable to keep their hands off each other.

“I’m getting impatient,” Yuuri confessed, one hand trailing up Victor’s chest. “Let’s skip lunch and jump straight to dinner,” he whispered into Victor’s ear.

He’d caught Victor right before the door in a discrete place hidden from prying eyes.

Victor gave Yuuri a helpless smile. “I’m all yours.”

Yuuri’s smile widened and he took Victor by the arm.

“Welcome home, Yuuri, Victor,” his mother greeted them. “Lunch is almost ready. You must be hungry!”

“Mother,” Yuuri said, putting on an innocent look, “I need to show Victor something in my room and then we’ll join everyone for lunch, I promise.”

Victor nodded along, blushing a little at Yuuri’s choice of words and they left.

 

Yuuri trapped Victor against the wall as soon as they got to their room. “Of course, if it had been just us,” he whispered hotly into Victor’s ear, “then we would have all the time in the world…”

“I… uh…” Victor stammered out.

Yuuri unzipped Victor’s jacket. “So, it’ll have to be a quick one this time.” The jacket was tossed aside. “Although a part of me wouldn’t object to having sex in front of an audience.” He undid the top button of Victor’s shirt. “What about you?”

“Uh…”

Yuuri placed one leg between Victor’s as he worked his way slowly down his buttons.

“There must be,” he pulled Victor’s shirt apart and slid both hands up his bare chest, “a club that has people have sex on stage…”

Victor gasped.

Yuuri moved closer and pushed his lower body against Victor’s. “Where people sit at tables and sip expensive champagne as the people on the stage gasp and moan while meaning nothing, or next to nothing…” He continued to describe this imaginary place as he unbuckled Victor’s belt and stepped back to unzip Victor’s pants. Yuuri lowered himself to his knees to pull them down.

“And…” Yuuri continued, sliding his hands up Victor’s bare legs, “…maybe they do lots of other interesting things.” His hands reached for Victor’s underwear, but he changed his mind and stroked it with his right hand instead.

“Or they wear something interesting.”

Victor’s mind wasn’t on the conversation, he was sure.

Yuuri watched him breathe hard and pulled his underwear down, the conversation entirely forgotten.

30 minutes later they were both at the table with Yuuri’s family, both looking fresh after a brief shower they took together.

Yuuri loaded Victor’s dish, the hint of a satisfied smile on his face. He’d spent a very good 20 minutes between Victor’s thighs. They’d even had time to switch, making as much use of their time as they could.

Victor hummed a familiar tune.

That evening his parents were supposed to arrive at Hasetsu and stay at the inn with everyone.

Yuuri had worried that Victor would be uneasy about it, but his fiancé didn’t seem to be worried about anything anymore.

 _Besides,_ Yuuri thought as he ate, _I know how to distract him._

As it soon turned out, Yuuri didn’t need to distract Victor from any upsetting thoughts. His family managed Victor’s family just fine between them, as if Yuuri had given them special instructions. Yuuri’s mother took charge, as soon as Mr. and Mrs. Nikiforov arrived, sitting her soon to be in-laws down and attacking them with hospitality like no one else could. She had food already prepared for this and shocked them with the amount of choice they had to face. Toshiya told funny stories and talked about Yuuri when he was younger.

It was harder to imagine a bigger contrast with Yuuri’s first meeting with Victor’s parents and it filled Yuuri with a lot of pride. Maybe someone thought his job was objectionable, or that he wasn’t good enough for Victor, but his parents made up for all that in spades

They accepted all the wedding guests at their inn, making sure everyone was comfortable. People came, slightly disoriented after their 12 hour flights and the train ride that had followed, and Hiroko accepted all of them with the promise of a comfortable bed and a refreshing bath.

They were all there – Victor’s rink mates from Russia, Chris, Phichit and all the friends they’d made in Paris. Victor’s coach got into an argument with Yakov with a speed that impressed everyone who saw it. But, mostly, everyone was too tired to talk.

It was getting late when Yuuri found his mother alone in the kitchen.

“Thank you,” he said.

She closed the dishwasher, started it up and turned to face her son. “You don’t need to thank me,” she assured him.

Yuuri put his hands around her. “I do. Sorry I’ve been away for so long.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for. It’s our fault for not visiting you,” she told him.

“I was very far away,” Yuuri pointed out, knowing that this wasn’t an argument either of them would win.

The thought that his family would come to visit never even occurred to him, so he remained convinced that the separation was all his fault and continued to contradict her until the sound of familiar footsteps cut off their half-hearted argument.

“Yuuri?” Victor called, poking his head into the kitchen. Spotting his fiancé, he went over to hug Hiroko.

“Go sleep,” she told both of them. “I’ll take care of everything.”

They tried to protest against this, but she gave them a light push in the direction of the door, refusing to hear any more on the subject. “Big day tomorrow.”

Yuuri took Victor by the hand and led him away, recognizing this as one of those times when it was best not to argue.

He opened his mouth to say something about finally getting some time alone with Victor and watched him sway a little on his feet.

The effort of greeting everyone and running around to pick up his parents and bring them here was starting to take its toll on him.

“Bedtime, I think,” Yuuri said, slipping one arm around Victor to keep him upright.

“But I…”

Yuuri smiled up into his face. “I think we’ve had enough practice for our wedding night to go sleep now.”

Victor blushed and stammered out an apology.

They got to Yuuri’s room – or, rather, _their_ room – and Yuuri looked at Victor with a smile. “I love you,” he said.

Victor returned the smile. “I love you too,” he whispered and swayed forward. He dropped into Yuuri’s outstretched arms and fell asleep.

Yuuri carried him inside and lay him down on the bed. He pulled Victor’s clothes off as carefully as he could and then covered him with a blanket.

It wasn’t long before he joined his fiancé on the bed and fell asleep, his face buried in Victor’s chest.

 

Yuuri woke up, feeling warm and very comfortable. He shifted a little without opening his eyes and two things occurred to him then. One – he was lying naked on top of Victor and the blankets were nowhere to be found and two – he was finally getting married today.

Victor moved a little and Yuuri opened his eyes and sat up with a smile.

“Good morning!” Yuuri lowered himself over Victor’s head and trailed a finger down his nose.

“Good morning! Sorry for falling asleep on you last night!” Victor apologized as if he’d committed some great crime.

Yuuri smiled and kissed him on one cheek and then on the other. “You don’t need to apologize, but,” he sat up again, “I do expect you to stay awake most of tonight.”

“Yes, of course!” Victor exclaimed.

Yuuri giggled. Then, putting on an innocent and serious expression, he said, “Although, I can’t imagine who we’ll be doing. Do you have any ideas, Victor?”

The skater blushed deeply. “Well…”

The innocence faded away and Yuuri sat up on Victor’s lap, staring down at him through half-closed eyes. “On second thought…” he breathed out as his thumbs drew circles around Victor’s nipples, “…I think I have a few ideas.”

He was all too aware that he was completely naked and he saw the way Victor’s mouth dropped open as he took him in. It was a tricky position for Yuuri – he couldn’t strip and he was suddenly all too aware of how odd it was to seduce someone he was supposed to marry in a couple of hours.

“Yuuri…” Victor breathed out.

They had to get ready. The thought was enough to cool Yuuri down. He shifted off Victor and gave him an apologetic smile. “Isn’t someone supposed to be getting married today?”

A dreamy smile appeared on Victor’s face. “Yes…”

Yuuri got off the bed and made for the bathroom. He paused in the doorway to look back at Victor over his shoulder. “So I expect you to look your best and –”

Victor leapt off the bed and caught Yuuri in an embrace. He planted a kiss on Yuuri’s cheek with an excited, “Yes!” that made Yuuri break out into laughter that was followed by too many kisses to count.

 

Two hours later they were getting ready in separate rooms.

Victor stood in front of a mirror and adjusted his tie. He was all in white with gold details sewn into his suit.

He still had no idea what Yuuri was going to wear, but he expected it to fit the theme they’d decided on together. The wedding venue would be decorated with white flowers in gold ribbons. They’d told the guests to wear pastel tones to match. Victor had even helped Chris pick between different suits.

Someone knocked on the door and Victor turned away from the mirror with a smile, expected Yuuri at last. “Come in!” he called.

Yuuri’s sister, Mari, entered, carrying a big bouquet of white roses. “Yuuri asked me to bring these for you.”

“Thank you.” Victor accepted the flowers with both hands and then spotted a small envelope hidden among them.

“Ready to go?” Mari asked.

Victor didn’t hear her question. All his thoughts were focused on the envelope. He freed one hand and pulled the envelope out, giving it a puzzled look and wondering if there was any way to open it using only one hand.

She laughed, startling him out of his thoughts. “I’ll hold the flowers for you,” she offered.

He hesitated, not wanting to give his flowers away to anyone. Finally, curiosity won. He returned them to her and opened the letter.

 _I know one bouquet isn’t enough to thank you for all the ones you got for me_ , Yuuri wrote, _but I hope you will forgive my late start._

_I love you._

_Always yours,_

_Yuuri x_

Yuuri had signed and left a deep red lipstick imprint like always. Victor held the note up to his face and pressed his lips against the imprint.

Mari laughed, bringing Victor out of his reverie yet again.

“Your brother is the best person in the world!” Victor exclaimed, his heart full of tenderness for the woman who was his fiancé’s sister.

She leaned against the doorframe and stared at the bouquet. “I’m glad he found happiness at last. We all worried a lot about him.” She sighed. “It’s a long way from Tokyo to Switzerland.” Then, remembering about their move, she corrected herself, “or to Paris.”

“You’re all always welcome to visit!” Victor announced. “I’ll pay for your tickets too!”

She raised her eyebrows at this. “I didn’t realize you were rich…”

Victor took the flowers from her. “Even if I wasn’t,” he said, staring down at them, “I’d still offer to buy you all tickets.” He raised his eyes to see her face.

She patted him lightly on the arm like someone who knew that some show of affection was due, but couldn’t figure out what it should be. Then she glanced at the clock and murmured, “You still have some time…”

He opened his mouth to ask “For what?”, but she beat him to it.

“Wait here,” she ordered as she slipped out.

Before he could come up with any explanation for what she could possibly be up to, she was back and giving him a mischievous grin. “You need to see this,” she said and held out a little photo album.

“Yuuri’s baby photos!” he almost exclaimed. He opened it frantically, eager to see them as quickly as possible.

But what he saw weren’t Yuuri’s baby photos. These photos were all of Yuuri at somewhere around 18 or, possibly 19. He was in lingerie in all of them. The first few were a little awkward, like anyone’s first modelling photos would be, but by the end of the album Yuuri looked more relaxed in lace, leather and garter belts. The last showed him reclining on a pillow with one hand resting on his thigh, his legs spread apart.

Victor tore his eyes away from the photo to see Mari still grinning at him.

“You know, right?” she asked. “No one said anything, so I wasn’t sure, but you have this innocence that made me wonder if he told you…”

Victor’s eyes dropped to the last photo again. “It’s how we met,” he told her.

“Really?”

He raised his eyes and saw the question there. He glanced at the clock. There was still some time left and so he told her about his first meeting with Yuuri, and how he won the man over without realizing what he was doing.

She listened without interrupting him and Victor found himself eager to share everything with her. She wasn’t like Chris who always pitched in with an innuendo, or his or Yuuri’s parents who he could never talk to about his feelings.

When he finished Mari put her arms around him. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m so glad you two found each other.”

“Me too.”

 

The grooms didn’t see each other before they left the house. Yuuri wanted to surprise Victor and let Victor go on ahead, promising he wouldn’t have to wait long.

That was how Victor ended up arriving first. He waited for Yuuri to arrive, his heart beating fast, and tried not to panic. It was fine. Everything was fine.

All the guests were already there, apart from Yuuri’s parents. Victor threw a glance at his own parents. They looked uncomfortable in a crowd of people they were seeing for the second time. For some reason, something about the sight disappointed him.

Victor, who deep inside wasn’t sure that he was really about to get his dearest wish granted, felt panic rise in his chest. Darkness enveloped him, making his head spin.

Yuuri wasn’t coming. This was all just a nightmare and nothing more. Any minute now he’d wake up all alone in his apartment in St. Petersburg to realize that he’d never gone to…

The doors opened and Yuuri strode in, not like a man about to get married, but like a performer about to shock everyone around him.

Victor’s heart leapt as he ran to join Yuuri, forgetting that Yuuri was supposed to walk to him.

Yuuri was gorgeous, too good-looking for words. He broke the white and gold theme, arriving dressed in a deep red tuxedo and lipstick to match. His hair was gelled back and – oh god! – there was a heart-shaped cut in his suit that revealed bare skin on his chest for everyone to see, opening almost wide enough to show his nipples. Yuuri wore gloves to match and a pair of gold earrings dangled from his ears, catching the light.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuri asked, the seductive smile fading away to be replaced by genuine worry.

There was a bouquet of deep red roses that Victor had bought for him the day before.

“Nothing…” Victor whispered and smiled, “I was just starting to miss you, that’s all.” His brain was still picking out all the details of Yuuri’s appearance.

Yuuri had gold heels on his feet. He freed himself gently from Victor’s arms and turned to show off the back of his suit, made almost entirely from red lace.

“What do you think?”

Victor placed a shaking hand over Yuuri’s back. “It suits you perfectly.”

Yuuri turned back and took Victor in. “You’re missing something…” he whispered with a little frown.

Then, an idea occurred to him and he slid a finger down the right lapel of Victor’s jacket before pressing his lips against it. “There,” Yuuri said, stepping back and giving him a satisfied look. “Much better.”

“Yuuri, don’t you want to marry him first?” Chris called out as everyone around them laughed.

Victor stared at the deep red imprint on his right lapel with his mouth slightly open.

“You… it will probably come off, if…” Yuuri stammered out, sounding suddenly uncertain of what he’d done.

“It’s perfect,” Victor assured him, raising his eyes to meet Yuuri’s.

In return Yuuri gave Victor a look that made him break out into a cold sweat. His hand stroked Victor’s arm before slipping around his elbow. Yuuri’s eyes held Victor’s.

Victor felt his head spin and he clung on to Yuuri to stay upright.

In less than 30 minutes they were married. Just like that! A few words, two signatures and…

Victor Katsuki-Nikiforov enveloped his husband in his arms as they exchanged a deep kiss. He held their chests close. Yuuri’s hands trailed up Victor’s back and he stepped closer.

They pulled apart to cheering all around them. Yuuri turned away from Victor and rewarded the guests with a big smile as is hands clutched Victor’s tightly. “Are we all ready to celebrate?”

The cheering got louder at that.

Victor, still a little dizzy from the kiss, followed his husband to the banquet hall, packed full of tables.

Waiters ran around with trays. People got up and made speeches and everyone toasted the newlyweds. Victor watched his husband, convinced that he had something prepared for everyone.

He was proved right once the guests finished eating and the tables were cleared to make room for dancing.

Victor prepared to invite Yuuri to the first dance and realized with a shock that Yuuri was gone. Hadn’t he been here a second ago? Victor was sure that Yuuri was standing next to him a mere second ago.

But, no, Yuuri was up on the stage, the microphone right in front of him. Yuuri was preparing to sing while the musicians behind him were getting their instruments ready.

“I dedicate this song to my dear husband,” Yuuri said and Victor rushed across the hall to go stand as close as possible. The guests parted to let him through. This time no one would fight him for the closest spot. It was his by right.

“Thank you everyone for coming,” Yuuri went on, staring into Victor’s eyes.

Victor stared back with a mix of worship and adoration on his face.

“Are you ready, darling?” Yuuri asked.

Victor nodded and blew him a kiss.

Yuuri threw a glance over his shoulder to see how the musicians were doing and then, satisfied that they were all ready to go, returned his attention to his husband before him.

“ _Birds flying high,_ ” he began in a bewitching voice, “ _you know how I feel. Sun in the sky, you know how I feel_.”

The song reached deep inside Victor and wrapped itself around his heart. It made Victor want to do something foolish. More than that, it made Victor forget that they were married and brought with it the belief that Yuuri’s heart needed to be conquered and won.

There was no way it wasn’t having that effect on everyone else, but Victor couldn’t tear his eyes away to check. Besides, it didn’t matter what any of them thought.

“ _It’s a new dawn. It’s a new day. It’s a new life for me and I’m feeling…_ ” Yuuri closed his eyes and breathed in, “… _good_.”

The music crashed all around them after that word.

Yuuri didn’t strip this time, but something about the way he sang made Victor feel as if Yuuri was completely naked up on the stage.

“ _I’m feeling good_ ,” Yuuri went on, gloved hands trailing down the microphone stand.

Victor fought down the urge to pull his own jacket off.

As soon as the song finished Victor leapt onto the stage and kissed Yuuri’s hand. Yuuri laughed, pulled his hand away and gave Victor a good long kiss on the lips.

He didn’t sing anymore after that. He got down from the stage and danced with Victor to every song the musicians played.

 

This time Victor insisted he go on ahead, telling Yuuri that it was his turn to prepare a surprise and Yuuri didn’t argue.

When Yuuri entered the bedroom he found Victor lying on his back with his arms resting on the pillow on either side of him. He was in a body harness made of black leather that criss-crossed over his chest, carefully making sure not to cover his nipples. It went down to his stomach, where it criss-crossed again before circling around each thigh.

Yuuri’s eyes swept down from Victor’s face to a spot between his legs, lingered there for a little and then returned to Victor’s face where a faint blush appeared.

Yuuri locked the door behind him without taking his eyes off Victor.

Victor, feeling nailed by that gaze, could barely breathe, let alone move.

For a moment their usual roles were reversed. Yuuri was in a black suit with coattails. There was even a white bowtie around his neck. Victor wished he’d put on a pair of heels to complete the outfit.

He did his best to smile like Yuuri as he said, “I wasn’t sure if I should put on a thong, or maybe pasties…”

Yuuri crossed the room with slow, dangerous strides. He paused right over Victor and his eyes took him in hungrily for the second time. Victor was really sweating now.

Yuuri’s hand reached out, hovered over his stomach and then moved through the air to rest on Victor’s cheek. “This is perfect,” Yuuri whispered.

“You can… um… you can tie me up?” Victor offered, forgetting about imitating Yuuri.

Yuuri shook his head. “Not on our wedding night. There is one thing…” He stepped away and Victor watched him search around until he found a pair of heels, which he slipped reverentially over Victor’s feet, giving each foot a kiss before doing up the straps. They were stiletto heels, the kind that are difficult to stand in and almost impossible to walk in, but that didn’t worry Victor who had no plans for getting up in the near future.

Yuuri slipped over him and settled into a sitting position right on Victor’s lap. Only then did Victor notice that Yuuri’s suit was made of a thin, cheap material.

“ _And I’m feeling…_ ” Yuuri sang softly as he pulled the bowtie off, “ _…good…_ ” He let the jacket slip off his shoulders and drop onto the floor. “ _Yes, I’m feeling so good._ ” He unbuttoned his shirt, keeping his eyes locked on Victor’s the whole time.

Victor swallowed.

Yuuri’s sang the same line over and over again, while pulling his shirt off with exaggerated slowness, revealing his bare shoulders one at a time and then the top of his chest, followed by his nipples and then finally his stomach.

He leaned over, hovered with his lips just above Victor’s as he tossed his shirt aside and then straightened up again.

It was getting harder and harder to breathe. And that wasn’t the only thing getting hard.

Yuuri pushed his hips against Victor’s.

“Yuuri…”

“Yes, I’m feeling so good,” Yuuri breathed out, undoing the zipper of his pants, his eyes not breaking contact with Victor’s.

He rose up and pulled his pants down.

Victor tore his eyes away from Yuuri’s just long enough to see that Yuuri wasn’t wearing any underwear before he locked eyes with Yuuri again.

The performer crawled forward on hands and knees, his eyes glinting dangerously and reached down to press a warm wet kiss against Victor’s neck.

Victor gasped for breath.

When Yuuri pulled away and sat up again he wasn’t wearing anything. “Now,” he said and licked his fingers, “what should I do with you?”

“Anything you want,” Victor responded weakly.

Yuuri’s fingers traced out the straps around Victor’s legs. “Hmmm…” He planted a kiss on the inside of Victor’s thighs as he spread his legs apart. “That is an offer I can’t refuse.”

An innocent smile appeared on Victor’s face as he thought that here they finally were – together and married at last. “I love you,” he whispered.

Yuuri raised his head and returned the smile, “I love you too and always will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Yuuri sings is [Feeling Good by Michael Bublé](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Edwsf-8F3sI) (which isn’t the original version of this song, but this is the cover that I had in mind when I wrote this chapter). I meant to use this song earlier. I’m so glad I kept forgetting and only remembered about it for this chapter, because I think it works better here than anywhere else.
> 
> And that's it for this AU! In the near future I hope to write Eros and the Bunny, which will be similar to Comes Love in some ways and different in others. And while in Comes Love I stuck to the mature rating as best as I could, that fic will be a little explicit.


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